UC: Lockout
by 082 Martian Scout
Summary: UC. Sequel to UC: Cache Raid. Upon arrival of the mysterious Howlers Island, in a weapons laboratory, the Cooper Gang battle werewolves, and the Revelation of Borg is revealed. My last Sly Cooper story, so I promise to make it my best. Please review!
1. Chapter 1

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

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**Special Thanks to Jammin Jabala for allowing me access to use his OC: Julius Black...**

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

* * *

Feeling the sun cast its holy light upon his eyelids, Johnathan Sawyer slowly opened his eyes, seeing the sunrise behind the trees of Howlers Island. He was a Grey wolf, one of many of the canine species that were held prisoners to some sinister science project. Every morning, he woke up in the middle of the island's woods, every noon, the metal men would hunt for him, as well as the other prisoners, and bring him back to the complex facility, where they would all be tortured.

Sawyer was only sixteen years old, the youngest of all the prisoners, and as most of the adults would describe, too young to witness such horrors. Everything on Howlers Island was beyond normal logic, many strange and bizarre creatures populated its surface, chemicals mixed with the clouds, causing daily acid rain, and in the category of strange creatures, he was one of them. Deep within his being slept a monster, a horrible beast waiting to get out.

Finally, every night the beast inside him was released, and it would be sent out to hunt, and he was only a spectator of himself, forced to watch himself kill and devour innocent victims. And every morning he would awaken the same way, lying on the cold dirt, blood all over his mouth and torso, and the constant traumatizing experience that made him fear the night, and fear that cycle he was trapped within.

He scurried to his feet, as his bare toes touched the dirt, after the beast's hunt the previous night, he was left hardly any clothes left to cover him from the cold chill or the acid rain. The hunters would be out soon, and he had to find a good hiding place away from sight. It has been proved pointless to hide, eventually they would find him, they were, after all, the ones who were feeding them, keeping them alive, but only so they could test them even further.

Like the others, Sawyer was only kept in this hellhole because the hunters, and their superior, wanted the beast, to tame it, to control it, to use it as a weapon. That was all he was, like the others, he was nothing more than a tool, a weapon that needs to be tamed and controlled.

Sawyer was more than scared, he was depressed, he remembered a time, only a year ago, when he had been with his mother and father. Before he signed up for this experiment, he had seen the time with his parents as an ordeal. His parents' arguments were torture to hear, but whenever he argued with his father, it was worse. He never saw eye-to-eye with his father, and a bond between them was never formed, and it was at the day, when he found the applications to a scientist's experimentation program, that he decided he wanted to leave his parents, leave and never see them again.

However, after meeting the scientist, after signing his signature on that contract, he still realized too late that he had made the biggest mistake of his life. He had signed away his soul to the devil, becoming one of many owned pets to some project that he would never understand was for. After going through the ordeal he was living in now, after realizing that he had broken the hearts of his parents by leaving them, the first thing in the morning, which he could not help, was cry at the painful memory.

He glanced to the side, spotting a large stick. He approached it and picked it up off the ground, he collected a sharp stone and began to rub it against the tip of the stick, sharpening it to a spear head. Whether he knew he could not win, he was not going to let the metal men take him without a fight.

As he sharpened his makeshift weapon, Sawyer looked up to the sky, spotting the dark clouds that loomed over the island. After hearing a series of small thunders, he knew he needed to find shelter. Acid rain could do critical damage to bare skin, and from the position he was in, half-naked in the woods, he was out into the open.

The acid rain would have no effect against the metal men, they were not slowed down nor harmed by its destruction, and neither was the complex facility. No matter if it was the only safe place of protection from the acid rain, he was not returning to that Devil's lair.

Should he gain the assistance of the other poor souls that have been incarcerated here, too? It would make no difference. Sooner or later he would be captured again, only to be released as the beast that rested inside of him, and repeat the cycle. What was the point of fighting? He could never win, and no matter what happens, nothing, as far as he was aware of, could ever change.

He thought about going South, away from the complex facility, but his instincts told him East, towards the sunrise. Although he would rather get as far away as he could, he knew he had been to the South many times, and the metal men would suspect him to show up so they could trap him, going East was a change of tactic, might confuse them and give him a chance.

Sawyer dropped the stone, now armed with a sharp pointed staff, he vanished into the woods, first to elude the upcoming acid rain, and then to hide from the metal men.**

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**Anyway, Review please. Any questions, comments, etc.?**


	2. Chapter 2

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

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**Special Thanks to Jammin Jabala for allowing me access to use his OC: Julius Black...**

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

**_

* * *

_**The description of Howlers Island was even less desirable from an approaching galleon. From the Binocucom visors of Sylvester J. alias "Sly" Cooper, a dark, nightmarish island stood all alone in the middle of the ocean. Roamed with ill clouds above its atmosphere, half-dead trees making up its woods, shivers ran up and down the raccoon's spine, as he could only imagine what type of creatures could survive on such a hazardous island.

As he stood over by the stern, near the rudder of the _Gallantry_, his two best friends, Bentley the turtle and Murray the hippopotamus, were near. The turtle stood beside him, also observing the island, while the hippo steered the rudder, taking a quick look. One glance at the island and they were all sharing similar feelings and opinion, Murray turned his attention away from the horrific sight and back to steering the ship.

"Are you sure about this, Bentley?" Sly asked, lowering his Binocucom as he glanced at his best friend.

The handicapped turtle looked down to the Seeker's Scroll, and then lifted his head back to the raccoon, nodding, "Apparently, yes."

"I don't know, pal. This placed looks to... torn to support daisies," he exclaimed.

"I agree. Like I once said in Haiti, the health department is dropping big on this dump," the turtle replied, "but I don't see anywhere else the raiders would have stationed instead of here, only machines could thrive on this island, so..."

"So the androids' owners couldn't choose a better place to hide out and count the loot. I see, and looks like we'll be getting back the rest of the treasure on Cache Isle."

"I'm more curious about the 'relic' Algernon mentioned in his message," Bentley told him, "It sounded very important if he wanted whoever found his treasure to destroy it, along with the rest of them."

"Wonder what this is all about," the raccoon replied, "things on this voyage just keep getting stranger. But other than this 'relic' we're talking about, what do you think the gear-heads wanted with treasure anyway? With that much money, they should be able to buy... one tank of gas."

"I know. How high will those prices go? It seriously outrageous." The turtle agreed, "But with whatever the androids are up to, I'd like to find out who their makers are. Perhaps he or she could tell us a thing or two."

"I kinda wish Borg would have told us something important," Sly said, "Like that the island was gonna look like a graveyard on open water. He still replies with the same thing he always says, 'that is classified information.'"

"Well, he knows something we don't, that's the truth," -Bentley began to roll away- "I just hope he decides to tell us before its too late."

"You think there's danger on Howlers?"

"It is probable, yes," the turtle put the Scroll away. He stopped to hesitate, "I think it's time we have a little chit-chat with Borg."

* * *

While the two Master Thieves strode past the platoon of pirates engaging in exercises, among the group doing push-ups, a husky in haled a breath of air as he lowered down, close enough for his nose to touch the floorboard, and exhaled as he pushed himself up, with his back straight.

Once a cadet in military school, Ethan Pierce had taken the habit of performing exercises that left a person gasping for air, like a fish out of water. Sure, as most of the pirates and sailors, including the two loyal troopers of Quartermaster/Drill Sergeant J. B. Wilson, Ricochet Adams and William Fitzgerald, gave up and dropped flat to the deck, exhausted, he was actually one of the few who kept going, as long as the Sergeant held a timer in his hand.

Unlike most of the crew, Pierce was more dedicated to working hard and getting the job done. Sure, the husky did lack a sense of adventure in his life, but that only explains his purpose aboard the _Gallantry_. Although he also wanted to hunt for treasure, he took his place in the crew to see the world while he was still young.

Struggling next to Pierce as he tried to keep up, Henry Jenkins was beginning to pant too hard that his lungs grew sore, causing him to cough last night's meal from his stomach. The ocelot was never use to such every morning exercise drills, in his last career he was only a mere taxi driver, which could only bore him to insanity. He was not like his companion, Pierce, he wanted adventure but was ready for it; Pierce, on the other hand, did not want adventure but was ready for it.

Taking a short second to glance at the sky, spotting a trail of chemical polluted clouds, Murray was not the most logical of the Cooper Gang, nor did he have every answer at his disposal, he knew danger when he saw it.

Spotting a large cove to the left, large enough to cover and hopefully protect the ship from any further harm, the hippo turned the rudder to the left, port, and headed for the rocks.

His description and personal opinion of the island was the same as their mission destinations in Prague, both the Contessa's prison and castle estate were brought into his memory as he studied the island. Why was it that only the _good _stuff was located within the worst places? Before, they had collected a large amount of loot from Cache Isle, and it was not even the entire stash. The remainder of the stash was located _here_, and for the moment, Murray hoped this treasure would be worth it. Somehow, he just knew a great ordeal was coming up.

**

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**Anyway, any questions? Comments? Etc.?**


	3. Chapter 3

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

* * *

**Special Thanks to Jammin Jabala for allowing me access to use his OC: Julius Black...**

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

* * *

With the _Gallantry _arriving towards the cove, where it would be safe from the upcoming acid rain, everyone went below deck to prepare for the drop off. Many had already caught a glimpse of the island, and have related opinions to each other, which gave them enough motivation to stock themselves with weapons and equipment, for the mysterious condition of this land convinced them to suspect danger.

However, the torn appearance of Howlers Island was not as horrible to a certain android as it did for the others, for AAI21-Borg, he was not bothered at all by the fray island, in fact, he actually dared to call it home. He knew there was more to the island, deep within the woods was a station, a complex facility, where many of his fellow units and counterparts were stationary.

Although he held a small desire to reminisce his homeland, they were here for a purpose, including himself for his own. He knew the prime artificial intelligence, call-sign "Noah." She was the assistant of the scientist creator who constructed him, and he was quite familiar with her thinking capacity, she had control of the entire station, and according to her programming, she never cooperates with outsiders.

Borg was not an outsider, he had his programming from the creator himself, and if he was to get what he wanted from the complex facility, he would need to gain the trust of the dedicated AI, and to do so, he would need to complete his true programming.

Alone in the infirmary of the _Gallantry_, which was his current work station aboard the galleon, he filled a syringe with a soporific drug, which he was planning to use when the time was right. He installed the syringe into a hidden compartment within his mechanical arm, hidden from all eyes.

"Borg?" A voice called for his alias. The android spun around to find Bentley and Sly Cooper before him.

"Ah, Mister Bentley and Captain Cooper," he greeted, "Is there something I can be of service?"

"Yes, actually you can," the turtle began, "You can start by telling us a thing or two that could be _important_. Such as the condition and population of the island."

"And we don't want the 'that is classified information' answer you keep feeding us," Sly said, "It's about time you told us something we need to know."

Borg was silent for a minute, "Very well, sirs. But it is important to inform you that the island will not be as it was after I had departed, previous assignments and experiments have long passed while new experiments are in progress. I am unaware of the condition and population, but considering the observations of the island's current appearance, I suggest a protective facial mask to convert any toxic gases into breathable oxygen."

The raccoon leaned towards Bentley, "Any idea what he just said?"

"He means we'll need gas masks," the turtle translated.

"However, it is fortunate for you that I have kept schematics of a complex facility stationed on the island," the android gladly pulled out a document envelope into view and handed it to the turtle.

He opened the envelope and pulled out a collection of papers, with a small adjustment to his glasses, "Hmm... factories... power plants... kennels? _And a nuclear reactor_?!" Bentley's eyes grew wide at the last installation of the complex as he read in shock. He looked up the machine, "What exactly _is_ this complex facility's purpose?"

"A weapons laboratory," answered the android, "My creator had business with the military, so he was hired to create warfare weapons."

"And what exactly were you programmed to do in this weapons program?"

"As far as you're aware of," Borg began, "That is classified information."

Bentley folded his arms, "Fine, if you're not gonna tell us, then maybe you should attend the recon team with Murray and Wilson."

"Oh? Captain Cooper is not accompanying the island reconnaissance?"

"No, I'll be taking a personal tour of this weapons lab of yours," Sly exclaimed, "I wanna take a look inside."

"I must disagree against that decision," the android started, "The station is well fortified and not a single sentient outsider can gain simple access. Perhaps I should accompany you instead of the reconnaissance team."

"Thanks for your concern, but we've already decided," Bentley said, "Besides, Penelope and I will be keeping watch over the both of you with the RC Jet, just in case. But I can assure you, Sly has handled tougher recon jobs before, I'm sure he can handle this one."

Borg was silent, it seemed like the first time anyone had ever disagreed or refused his knowledge, "Very well," he said, doing no more than nodding his round head, "I shall attend the reconnaissance briefing presently."

With that, both thieves left the infirmary, leaving the machine all alone in his stationary. The attention of the android switched to the porthole, as the light of the sun vanished, consumed by the darkness of the cove.

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**Anyway, Review please. Any questions? Comments? Etc.?...**


	4. Chapter 4

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

* * *

**Special Thanks to Jammin Jabala for allowing me access to use his OC: Julius Black...**

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

* * *

After the anchor was dropped, hiding the _Gallantry _inside the protection of the cove, the selection of the reconnaissance team stood just below deck, as the briefing began. The selection of recon troopers were made up of a few pirates and mercenaries; Ricochet Adams, William Fitzgerald, Frederick Opossum, Ethan Pierce, David Rogers, Henry Jenkins, Jerald Marcus, and Julius Black. In front of the group of volunteers was Bentley, Sly, and Sergeant Wilson.

After the disappointment of Cache Isle, where the news of the treasure stash being incomplete, Black could only resent being beaten by more annoying androids. On the previous isle, he had also developed a more bitter hatred for the particular android, AAI21-Borg. While the taunting curiosity pestered him without end, it forced him to challenge the machine in an chance to learn what secrets he was hiding, unfortunately, the android had defeated him, and left him in even deeper anger than before.

Now that they were here, at Howlers Island, the crocodile's patience had reached its limit, and considering the condition of this graveyard, it would make it easier for Cooper's death to prevail. Although he had agreed with Borg to cease any further mutiny attempts, he was not one to keep deals. The treasure was his, and he was not going to give up on it. As far as he could predict, before the next morning, the Seeker's Scroll would be in his hands.

"Alright everyone," the turtle began, "as you all know, back on Cache Isle, we found a nearly priceless stash of treasure. But with the information that we _weren't_ the first raiders there. So we're tracked the treasure to Howlers Island..."

"...Which we can all agree is a dump," Adams commented, as he tapped fists with Fitz. Everyone laughed.

"Keep laughing, Adams," the Sergeant began, "Just wait until you get out there and have a look for yourself, it'll be a lot worse."

Adams' smile faded, as everyone again laughed.

"He's serious, though," Bentley continued, "Howlers Island has a nuclear plant installation, where a lot of sulfur dioxide and nitrogen oxide are released into the atmosphere... creating daily showers of acid rain."

"So?" Rogers asked, sitting with his chair backwards.

"Believe me when I say this," asked the Sergeant, "Acid rain can be very deadly. Back where I come from, we have acid _snow_ occasionally once a month..."

"Exactly where _are _those Eskimos you call a family calling home?" Adams interrupted again, temporarily changing the subject.

"First off; they're called the Sontarjii, second; _my home _is around Novaya Zemlya," Wilson answered, getting a confused look in reply. "It's in Russia. Now then, back to the..."

"Hold up! So what you're saying is... you're a Ruskie?" Freddy asked, sitting up.

"Yes! Moving on!" The Sergeant said annoyed, raising his voice.

"Acid rain can be very lethal," Bentley continued, "upon trees, rocks, and even buildings, it could do allot of damage, that's why all you see are mostly dead and dying trees. And combined with what we believe is toxic gas in the air, it makes the area unsuitable for any living thing to survive for even half an hour."

"So how'd you expect us to recon the island if we can't even walk out there?" Fitz asked, a toothpick in his mouth.

"Luckily, we have gas masks capable of converting the polluted air into breathable air," the turtle said, pulling out a gas mask as an example, "so we should be able to go out there without trouble breathing."

"And what happens if we go outside without gas masks on our faces?" Rogers asked.

"Considering there's poisonous gas out there," Wilson began, approaching the pitbull, "obviously it's deadly. If you try to breath in any of it, your throat and insides will grow swollen, you'll begin to feel lightheaded, your eyes will get bloodshot, and you'll be dead before you can summon the strength to call for help. That is... before the acid rain melts your flesh off your bones first."

Rogers' lip quivered, as a shiver ran through him. Everyone else made the same reaction.

"Any questions, Rogers?"

"No sir," the pitbull replied, and said nothing else.

"Good. Then grab a mask, grab a gun, and let's get this show on the road."

* * *

After the briefing, the recon troopers strapped on their gas masks as they prepped and loaded the Team Van, on deck of the _Gallantry_. They each tested their ear links, armed themselves with assault rifles and other weaponry, as Murray strapped himself into the seat of his history recording van.

Aside from them, Sly and Bentley, both wearing face protecting gas masks, stood next to the ramp connecting the ship to the dry ground.

"Alright Sly, according to the schematics, the facility is to the North," Bentley told him, "be careful and watch your back, we don't know what's out there."

The raccoon agreed and started down the ramp, and began prowling through the cove and reaching the end of the cave deadlock. As he stepped out of the cave and into the woods, he shuddered.

The appearance of the woods were even less than desirable up close. What with the dead trees, some were splitting and peeling apart while others gave up and lied on the gray grass, any other remaining tree stood without leaves and with skeleton branches, leaving only its black bark.

Thunder crackled into the air, Sly glanced up to the clouds as they gave the signal of approaching rain. He saw it as a good idea to hurry and get out of the rain, before it, as the Sergeant described, melted his flesh and fur off. As for the dead woods, it was about to look a lot worse.

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**R&R, please...  
**


	5. Chapter 5

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

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**Special Thanks to Jammin Jabala for allowing me access to use his OC: Julius Black...**

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

**_

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_**As the _Gallantry dock_ed into the dark and protection of the cove, just now waking up from inside the ladies' dorm, Neyla struggled as she opened her eyes, as they both begged her to close and rest a little longer. Although it was an offer she would not mind taking, she felt as if she needed to wake up now before she missed something.

She remembered waking up one morning, her first morning on the ship, just in time to watch Wilson dive into the deep blue sea. It nearly scared her to death at the thought of what could have happened to her boyfriend. If it had not been for Borg, he would have been dead. And now, it was time to make sure he was not jumping into any more trouble.

The white tigress sat up from her hammock and yawned, stretching her arms over her head. She turned her head over to her roommate, Penelope, who was already awake and dressed. She sat cross-legged on her hammock, busy modifying her RC Chopper's surveillance camera.

"Waking up late again, I see," the mouse exclaimed.

Neyla smirked, "Good morning to you too," she replied, swinging her feet to the edge of her hammock and standing up, stretching one final time, and banishing the last of lethargy from her body. "And I wasn't _that_ late, this is actually pretty early for me."

"Even so, you still wake up a little too late after everyone else," Penelope said, resting her RC Chopper on the desk as she too stood up, "we've already arrived at our next destination."

"Oh really?" Neyla replied, donning her clothes as she spoke with her friend, "about to find the rest of the incomplete treasure?"

"From the looks of things, yes," she replied, as she and the white tigress left to join Bentley. "Wilson had just recruited a few pirates to a recon team, and he and Sly just left."

With that information, Neyla frowned. Back in Paris, France, when they were police officers of Interpol, Wilson always use to wake her up when ever an early morning assignment occurred. Considering he had simply _skipped_ her in recruitment of his Reconnaissance Team, she was beginning to feel as if he was doubted she could handle herself out into the field.

However, that could not be the case, Wilson had trust and faith in her, it was why their partnership became very successful in Interpol. As was it the very reason she fell in love with him, he had trusted her, even after he knew about her treacherous past, and with that he had won her heart. But she him good enough that he could not choose sides against his homeland, so she had come to respect that in him.

"Neyla?" Asked Penelope, curious of her friend's silence.

The white tigress shook her head, realizing she had forgotten about her, "Hmm? Yes?"

"You okay? You were quiet for a minute."

"Oh, I was just thinking..."

"Is there something wrong?"

"Well," She began, "I just... feel like Jack doesn't want me on the friend with him."

"Why would you think that? You two seem to have a very trusting relationship."

"Maybe, but I feel as if our relationship is no longer the same as our partnership," Neyla said, lowering her head, "Sometimes I feel as if he doesn't trust me anymore."

"Don't say that, a relationship and a partnership are nothing different. Trust me, Bentley and I argue a few times, and he usually wants me to stay behind, but I reminded him that I won't leave his side while he's on the field, I can be just as crafty as he is intelligent. So from now on, Bentley and I go everywhere together, our relation and partnership are no different."

"Maybe, but I don't think it will be that easy to convince Jack, he can be a little stubborn sometimes. It's as he doesn't trust me to handle something on my own."

"Wilson trusts you very much, and I bet it would kill him if something were to happen you."

"It wouldn't be the only thing, Jack cared for his homeland long before he even met me. If his home and everyone of his family were killed, he would be heartbroken."

"Well, other than that, I think it's time you talk to him about letting you go with him," Penelope exclaimed, "You know him well enough to persuade him, don't you?"

"Yes, I've gotten the chance to know him very well, and Penelope, persuasion's my specialty."

As the two females entered the captain's dorm, they found Bentley in front of his laptop, wearing a headset on his scalp.

"Morning Bentley," Penelope greeted, taking a seat into the chair beside him, "How's goes the recon job?"

"Well, Wilson and Murray have just entered the woods at the moment, and it's not pretty in their point of view," the turtle said.

"And Sly?"

"He's en route to the complex facility, and with the schematics Borg had given us, we should be able to find the treasure's location."

"Borg had schematics?" Neyla asked, leaning on the chair Penelope sat in.

"Yes, he said it was to a weapons facility of some kind," the turtle exclaimed, "He didn't say anything else."

"Why is it that he always keeps quiet about important stuff?" The mouse asked, "It's not like he has anything embarrassing to hide."

"Well, he is an unusual AI, we can't really blame him for picking up a personality," Bentley said, "Anyway, Penelope, I've asked the Panda King to launch your RC Jet. Get ready to fly."

As Penelope pulled out her own laptop and placed it on the desk, before opening it up she whispered to Neyla, "See, a partnership which involves teamwork."

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**The reason I wrote this chapter was because I wanted to introduce Penelope and Neyla in the early chapters before I got to the middle of the story. I didn't want to wait until later to present them because it seems a little weird for me to suddenly show characters only to where they really take in to the action. When I get into later chapters, you'll understand.**

**Anyway, any questions? Comments? Etc.?**


	6. Chapter 6

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

* * *

**Special Thanks to Jammin Jabala for allowing me access to use his OC: Julius Black...**

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

* * *

Wandering through the woods of dead trees, cautiously as to listen for any danger, Sawyer kept his breath silent, fearing the metal men would detect him. He crouched underneath the miraculously healthy trees and their large leaves, as they fortunately formed a trail of umbrellas to protect him from the already showering acid rain.

He had always hated this island, it was tainted, decaying, and a downright nightmare. For anything he would happily give away to escape this island, escape and hopefully return to his mother and father. Along his hike to a safe and secure location away from the hunting metal men, under his own breath, he prayed.

"O' Great and Powerful Lord, please forgive my faults and sins. For I knew no better than any beneath me of what the consequences for my actions would incarcerate me into an ordeal where I'm a spectator of myself.

"So I ask you O' Lord, 'deliver me from this imprisonment, set me free so that I may see my beloved mother and father again, to tell them that I am sorry for leaving them, and for not honoring them as I should have."

After his pray, a twig snapped. His ears twitched, his breathing fell silent, and he stood still. Listening for the slightest sound, a twig does not break or snap on its own, normally if something were to step on it, it would break the structure of it. For an instant, Sawyer was suspecting that he was being... _watched_.

Within a long, awaiting minute of suspicion, the Grey wolf continued on his way, careful not to step into any puddles, he was not desiring the accident of losing a foot to acid. Keeping his feet on the dead, gray grass, he could not help the feeling of being stalked, naturally wolves were hunters and together they could take down large prey, but in this case, he was all alone, _he_ was the prey, and his hunters were equipped with lethal and non-lethal weapons.

Another twig snapped, and he froze, this time spinning around to confront the stalker, not a single soul in sight. However, he was not about to take anymore chances. He turned back to his previous direction and sprinted, not caring if he stepped into any acid puddles, nor caring if he was making too much noise, he had to get out of there, and fast.

* * *

Meanwhile, under the watchful eye of Penelope's RC Jet, the Reconnaissance Team entered the dead woods, Murray sat within the driver's seat and drove the van, while Rogers mounted the gun turret. The hippo drove the vehicle at a steady pace of stealth, careful not to draw any stalking and observing attention to them, and so the infantry recon troops could keep up.

Standing in groups on both sides of the vehicle, Black, Fitz, Adams, and Borg marched on the right side, while the Sergeant, Pierce, Jenkins, Marcus and Freddy marched on the left side. As the rain of lethal acid fell upon them, they were protected by the gas masks that covered their faces and shoulders. Of course, at the moment, the acid rain was not the most of their worries, there was the polluted air all around them, or so they suspected. But they were not going to take the chance of exposing themselves to toxic gases in the air.

How was it that he had always gotten into these situations? If anyone was disliking this place already it was Adams, he had been pulled into places that he would call a hellhole without hesitation, but this island, these suicidal woods, he would need to come up with a new word to describe it. As he marched with a double-function assault rifle, one of Bentley's newly invented weapons, all he could do was breath in the purified oxygen of the gas mask and think.

The whole time, he could only compare the Sergeant to his father, Stanley Adams. Even since his mother had passed away when he was only ten years old, his father had changed to a even worse person than he could describe. His father was a drunkard who always yelled and beated at him, which only made him hate that man even so much that he decided to leave, to run away and let him find someone else to beat. For all he knew, his father might still be searching for him, so he could punish him, or perhaps he had not even notice him leave.

Marching next to the doberman, Fitz whistled silently to himself, attempting to form a distraction from the dead woods. It was a spooky disturbing scenery such as this that made him homesick. Back in Tennesse, where his father and two sisters hopefully still lived, he kept the image of the last time he saw them, waving to him with goodbyes as he left to join the Navy.

Unlike Adams, Fitz could connect with his father more, even day, back when his mother watched over his first sister, Jessica Fitzgerald, he and his father would go work at the ranch. After Jessy was old enough to come to, and his second sister, Linda, was born, his father had taught him how to manage things by himself, to become independent. However, after his mother died in a car accident, Fitz's father wanted him to continue his footsteps in caring for the ranch, that was the one thing they could not agree on. Although he did not approve, his father still accepted his wishes in seeing the world, as he began to educate Jessy.

Both had an interesting history with fathers, while Fitz loved his father, Adams loathed his own. Although that was the big difference between the two soldiers of fortune, it was opposites that formed a friendship between them.

The reconnaissance team continued down the path, immune to the menacing acid rain above. However, watching them with magnified photo receptors, a group of hunters stood at a distance, if they were too close they would surely provoke these strangers. Even if it would be sporting to take down the party of troopers, there was other prey to hunt for.

**

* * *

**

**I wrote this chapter for two reason. First; to turn back to Sawyer, give a little bit more info about the new character, and secondly; to explain a little personal information about Fitz and Adams. Out of most of my MCs, I can relate to Adams, and Fitz, I feel as if everyone knows the least about him, and probably don't even care for him, so I wanted to explain him a little more, to detail that he's not just some cartoon character, like Freddy, but a really good and kind friend. Friendship works with opposites.**

**Anyway, Review please. Any questions, comments, etc.?**


	7. Chapter 7

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

* * *

**Special Thanks to Jammin Jabala for allowing me access to use his OC: Julius Black...**

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

* * *

Meanwhile, after prowling throughout the dying, polluted woods, dodging several puddles of acid, and hiking up a hill as more lethal acid rain drizzled over his mask, Sly reached into his pouch and pulled out his Binocucom. Whenever getting to a high point of an area, such as a rooftop or a _hill_-top, it provided the opportunity to scan and recon the rest of the area. This information proved very helpful in previous missions and jobs, and it gave him an opportunity for sight-seeing.

However, there was nothing worth seeing about this island, past the tainted woods and acid rain puddles, the raccoon came upon a more disturbing view; the complex facility.

The complex was made up of four or five other buildings, out of three of the mysterious buildings, he could only identify them as the factories, building in the center of the complex was, if not mistaken, the weapons laboratory, and the installation farthest from the facility could be the nuclear reactor.

A shiver ran down his spine, triggering the senses of his nature to demand that he turned tail and ran without looking back. However, the raccoon had seen similar sights that had injected fear into his veins. As far as he was aware, he was not afraid of the horrifying laboratory, in fact, what really had his teeth chattering was what the scientist had been working on inside.

He took shelter from underneath a tree, where he, along with his equipment, should be protected from the rain. He leaned against the black bark tree and lifted his Binocs to his eyes, facing the complex facility, and tapped a link over to Bentley's laptop.

"This is the Wizard, I'm receiving you contact Agent Prowler," the turtle responded, via his "legit" codenames which he had made up and provided for the Cooper Gang, "What's your status, Prowler?"

"First off, I'm beginning to have cold feet about the nickname, out of everyone else, I'm _still_ the one with the lame nickname," Sly joked, and then became more concise, "secondly: I'm in visual range of the complex facility, and it's even less pretty than we thought."

"Is it really that bad?"

"See for yourself," the raccoon zoomed in on the complex, as its image appeared on half of the turtle's laptop screen, as Bentley's eyes widened.

"Gads!" He said underneath his breath, "I've never seen a station so isolated from society for so long. There must be something worth the time and expenses, stationary within the lab."

"Alright, I'm heading inside. I'll take a few pictures and contact you, just in case there's something you _need _to see," Sly replied, switching off his Binocs as he made a sprint for the laboratory.

He leaped off the hill, and activated his Paraglider, as he flew through the air and rain. However, the acid rain burnt through the fabric in which his parachute was made up of, causing a disruption of his flight. The raccoon struggled to maintain altitude and then crash landed into the shadows of the laboratory, instantly shielding him from the rain.

He threw off the destroyed parachute, just before the acid could come in contact with his skin, and stood to his feet, leaning close to the wall as to hide from any patrolling guards. He was not sure if he had been spotted while dropping flight, usually he was very careful about maintaining stealth, but considering no alarms were screaming to report an intruder, it calmed him to know that he had not yet been discovered.

Now undetected, the raccoon scanned the area for a way inside, an entrance that did _not_include the front door. Finally, he found one of the traditional entrances, even to non-thieves, of most current times, an air vent. He pulled out a multi-purpose hand tool, selecting the screw driver function, and began to unscrew the vent lid off. After which, he detached and removed the vent lid and reattached it as he slipped through the ventilation system.

In his experience with ventilation traveling, it was important not to touch the ceiling, or sides all too often, in case of sudden rise or decrease of temperature. Sly was lucky he was not claustrophobic, in his current position, it would be a nightmare. From the looks of everything else on Howlers, claustrophobia might be the least of worries.

Finally, he came across a vent lid, which was his exit out of this air vent. He unscrewed the lid and placed it inside the shaft, he stuck his head out to scan the current location of the laboratory. He was inside a hallway, made up of white tiles that covered the walls and floor. With that, he leaped out of the vent and landed on his feet. With his boots touching solid tiled floor, he placed his back against the walls, and removed his gas mask, in haling the fresh, unpolluted oxygen of the laboratory.

Now that he was inside, perhaps he might find what he, along with the Cooper gang and crew, were looking for. The lost piece of the Cache Isle treasure, in which they had believed to be here, must be somewhere inside the laboratory. Considering the owner may spend most of his time playing mad scientist in the laboratory, the wealth used to fund the entire Howlers installation should be kept close.

With that, he prowled down the white tiled hallway and headed into the next room, it was time to see what this was all about.

* * *

**Anyway, Review please. Any questions? Comments? Etc.?...**


	8. Chapter 8

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

* * *

**Special Thanks to Jammin Jabala for allowing me access to use his OC: Julius Black...**

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

* * *

Meanwhile, the reconnaissance team traveled further into the dead woods, securing several points of Howlers Island. After an hour of securing and patrol, they came upon, what looked like, a past fray battle point, just underneath the umbrella trees. Small craters, caused by explosions, were formed into the ground, most of the trees held burnt marks, and the ground was littered with several puddles of, not of acid, but what looked like blue plasma.

"Whoa!" Adams said, studying the area, "What happened here?"

"You got Fitz," Fitz replied, "whatever happened here, we probably missed it."

The Sergeant held a single hand in the air, signaling everyone to halt, as he bent down beside a puddle of plasma. Freddy stood beside him, standing on his knees as he loomed over the puddle.

"It's blue, that means it cooled down," the possum said, "how old do you think its been here."

"I don't know," Wilson admitted, "plasma could've been left here for years and stay blue. So we have no way to tell."

"Guess again..." Freddy said, raising his hands to his gas mask, as he prepared to remove it.

"Wait, Freddy. Don't!"

Before the Sergeant could stop him, the foolish rodent pulled his mask off, now exposed to the polluted air, only to then grab his own neck and gasp for air, falling to the ground, twitched twice, and then fell motionless.

"Oh no," Wilson said under his breath, as he began to mourn the possum. It was true, out of everyone else of his former SWAT team, Freddy was the one he needed to look out for, to ensure he did not get into any trouble. Sure, he was probably the most foolish and most idiotic rodent he had ever met, never mind form a friendship with, but he was a good man who held the will to cheer anyone up.

Suddenly, the rodent sat up within a second, yelling "Boo," straight into the cougar's face. The Sergeant nearly jumped out of his fur, never mind flinching, as due to the "playing dead" attempt.

"That was _not_ funny, Freddy," the Sergeant said, "I actually thought you were dead."

"Well that's my specialty; playing 'possum,'" the rodent said, grinning. Suddenly, the Sergeant took notice to a very interesting and hard to miss detail.

Out of his curiosity, Wilson reached for his own gas mask, which he believed was the only protection from polluted air. However, considering Freddy, whose face was bare and exposed, was still standing and still alive. Although, Freddy was very unusual, so there must have been an acceptation of some sort. He pulled off the mask, took a few cautious sniffs, and then breathed normally. To his surprise and relief, the air all around them, as well as all around Howlers Island, was totally breathable.

He turned to the others, "Hey, listen up. The air's clean, feel free to take your masks off," the Sergeant informed. With that, everyone threw off the bothersome plastic, temperature compression contents that consisted of a gas mask.

Inside the Team Van, Murray wiped the sweat of perspiration from his forehead, after disposing of the bothersome headwear, he was happy to be left in his game-face mask. After which, he pulled the vehicle into park, as the outside troopers began to scan and secure the area.

"I thought the air was unbreathable," Adams said to Marcus.

"Hey, Tin man," the black panther called, the android spun to face him, "wasn't it you who said the air is poisonous?"

"Correction: I said it maybe polluted with poisonous gases," the machine corrected, "I never said it was undoubtedly toxic."

"Alright, hush up," the Sergeant said, "I've gotta make a call." With that, he tapped his head, connecting with Bentley back at the _Gallantry_. "Benny, you read?"

"Agent Sandman, please use the code names," the turtle said, milking.

Wilson sighed, "Fine. Agent Wizard, do you copy?"

"This is the Wizard, loud and clear Sandman. As you were saying..."

"We've learned something new," the Sergeant reported, "There aren't any toxins in the air, Borg must've made a mistake."

Seated behind his laptop, the Sergeant's report gathering his attention, as well as both girls, Bentley placed a finger on his chin, "That's impossible. Machines don't 'make mistakes,' Borg has been away from here for who knows how long. It's possible he didn't know and just made a educated guess."

"Maybe, but Borg isn't a normal machine," Wilson said, "and he's starting to catch my suspicion."

* * *

Sprinting through the woods, now completely sure the metal men were right on his tail, Sawyer had never been more scared in his life. It was true in previous days he had been frightened beyond common sense, today he was more afraid of the first year anniversary of the ordeal. Giving him the treatment daily was torture, but when they punished him for resisting, it was beyond torture.

He sprinted past trees and over short puddles, leaving behind the makeshift spear. To now, he did not even care about making a stand and fighting, right now, he wanted to live.

The young wolf ran as fast as he could, as far as he could stretch his own limit, until he came across the previous battle point, where he found a small group of people in strange uniforms. The outsiders of Howlers Island.

They raised firearm weapons towards him, they seem startled by his appearance, he was lucky they did not turn fire on him. He approached the nearest outsider, a coyote, placing his hands on his shoulders as he plead, "Please." Sawyer begged, "Help me."

Suddenly, he felt a small dart puncture him in the back of his shoulder, followed by a large wave of paralysis that swept over his body. Before he could even fall to the ground, Sawyer fell head first into a deep realm of unconscious, his last bit of hope eclipsed.

* * *

**Commentary: In this chapter, the first thing I wanted to do was end the whole gas mask thing in the story, it's not what I'm going for, I didn't want Lockout to have that description from Cameron's Avatar, where the humans needed oxygen masks because they couldn't breath Pandora's air. Also, now that Sawyer was found and recovered by the recon troopers, the beginning of a shootout is gonna occur. You'll see.**


	9. Chapter 9

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

* * *

**Special Thanks to Jammin Jabala for allowing me access to use his OC: Julius Black...**

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

**_

* * *

_**With the unconscious stranger, a young Grey wolf, now hanging in his arms, Fitz glanced at the others, who mirrored the same confused look. Truth be told, none of them would know why a young man would suddenly appear in the woods of an erosion island. Perhaps there was more of a mystery here than they would have anticipated, and it seems most likely that Borg was leaving some information that would produce interesting results.

The Sergeant approached the coyote and checked over the boy, lifting his hand and checking his pulse. "He's still alive," he reported, and then checked his back. He removed the dart and examined it, "Tinman, front and center."

Although the android was annoyed with his recent nickname, Borg complied and approached him, "Yes sir?"

"Take this kid to the back of the Humvee, treat him and prep him for the trip back to the ship."

"Yes sir, of course," the android took the young man from Fitz and carried him to the back doors of the Team Van, where he hoped in and began to treat the unconscious boy.

With a mysterious survivor in hands, the Sergeant examined the dart again, "Hey Benny, we've just found a kid out here. He's alive, but I think we should get him back as soon as possible."

"Acknowledged Wilson," Bentley agreed, "this kid might have an interesting story to tell us."

"That's not all, when he found him, he was shoot down with some drug dart. I think there might be hostiles in the woods that are looking for him, and I think we're about to engage."

"Proceed with caution Wilson, we don't know what we're up against," the turtle said.

"Copy that." Replied the Sergeant, as the cougar stashed the dart into his pocket for safe keeping, and then turned to the other recon troopers, "On your feet and pick up your weapons, we're about to see some action!"

With that, the other soldiers rose their assault rifles and fell quiet, on the lookout for the next sound. Pierce took the safety _off_ and switched the weapon to _controlled fire_, no use wasting ammunition on an enemy you have yet to identify.

Black could agree, but the crocodile was no soldier, mercenary, or warrior. He was not interested in engaging in battle, his only desire was Algernon's treasure. The only key to finding every last bit was the Seeker's Scroll, which was in the possession of the Cooper Gang. No matter, if he had to fight in a shootout and gain closer trust to the Master Thieves in order to pry the Scroll from their cold, dead hands, then so be it.

The Sergeant held his assault rifle forward and firm, while Freddy crouched to the ground, "Watch your fire and stay focused," Wilson informed.

"Relax," the possum assured, "'Focus is my middle name; Frederick 'Focus' Opossum." The rodent _almost_ proved his point, until something caught his eye on the ground, "HOLY COW!"

With that, everyone froze and turned to the possum, anxious at what he had found.

"...An ant hill."

As the obnoxious rodent bent down to observe the tiny, long line of ants marching across the ground, everyone just sighed. So much for staying focused.

Suddenly, a small, sphere-like object was tossed and landed only a few meters from Jenkins' feet. Before the ocelot could even look down to spot the mysterious object, an immediately explosion emitted, launching and slamming him into the side of the Team Van. The explosion captured the attention of the rest of the reconnaissance team, especially Pierce.

"Jenkins!" The husky yelped in horror, watching as his friend fell to the ground beside the vehicle, motionless. As he ran to his aid, the Sergeant glanced up the hill, spotting a group of figures. From what he could describe, they were robots, androids that were the same model as Borg, all armed with weapons. Although he was familiar with the usual android he and the crew deal with daily, he did not expect these androids to be equally assisting.

"To the North!" He pointed up the hills, everyone spun their heads and spotted the approaching group, as the patrol of machines unleashed bolts of hot plasma upon them, and now obtaining the official and obvious intelligence that those gear-heads were not the greeting committee, the recon troopers returned fire.

Pierce knelt down beside Jenkins, as he shook his friend lightly, trying to wake him from what he hoped was simple unconsciousness. "Jenkins? Wake up!" He demanded, as the downed ocelot groaned. Just over them, Rogers let loose with the turret, unleashing several rounds of electric bolts that raced towards the androids, shooting down each after another.

The machines, without fear in their programming, advanced towards the pirate outsiders, their weapons heating up with each blast. They knew the subject of the Scientist's current experiment was in the intruders' possession, and they wanted him back.

The engagement had now begun.

**

* * *

**

**Commentary: Now that the recon troopers found the mysterious stranger, it looks like they're not done yet. About Freddy spotting an ant hill, if anyone thought that was funny, I'm glad you thought so, but I'm putting more to these ants then you think. Believe me, you have not seen anything yet.**

**Anyway, any questions? Comments? Etc.?**


	10. Chapter 10

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

* * *

**Special Thanks to Jammin Jabala for allowing me access to use his OC: Julius Black...**

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

* * *

Meanwhile, after breaking and entering the laboratory of the complex facility, Sly Cooper slowly prowled down the hallway, making a stealth approach upon arriving to each room. Walking down a hallway and entering through a door in the middle of the way, especially when you are on a stealth mission, was suicide.

He stood to the left of the door and began to tap the device on his wrist, activating his motion tracker. One of Bentley's new gadgets, the Wrist-MT was a very useful tool when you are trying to stay on your toes and watch for potential danger. He studied the tracker, detecting several heartbeats inside the laboratory room, all of which were lined up and organized into a pattern. One of which not too many normal people would stand in, and when one strange detail was in place, it usually gives the message that there is something worth knowing.

With some quick maneuver, the raccoon tapped the terminal, and as desired, the door slid open. He waited a few minutes before prowling inside, waiting for someone or something to show up at the doorway and investigate. Without hearing a single footstep approach near his position, along with no further movement detected on his MT, he was more suspicious about this than anything else. So without further wait, he slipped into the room.

Once inside, confusion swept over the raccoon, the room which he had entered was a large, wide laboratory coated with white tiles on all walls and on every square inch of floor. Not a soul was seen nor detected by the eyes of the raccoon, he glanced back at the MT, the device said otherwise. According to the gadget, over to his left was a beating heart, a living creature right next to him, but all he spotted on his left was a tube, a tank large enough to hold something Murray's exact size or bigger.

Slowly, curious but cautious, Sly placed a hand on the tank, wiping away the dust from the glass that blocked any view of inside of it. He cleared a wide area of palm-polished glass, allowing him a better vision. He looked through and spotted a silhouette, a body floating in some type of liquid, without scales, feathers or fur, but completely bare shin.

He became more anxious as he scrolled up the body, wondering what type of face this mysterious creature owned. His curiosity lead him to the answer, the head of the body was completely bare of..._everything_. No hair, no ears, no nose, no eyebrows, no lips, and, in general, no face whatsoever. Only two clear white eyes, without pupils, eye color, or otherwise, and an open mouth, with plain teeth.

The sight brought shivers across his spine, as he backed away from the tank. He spun around to find dozens of other tubes, all containing similar naked bodies with the exact same description, all of which were lined up in the precise pattern as shown on the MT. They were all copies of the first one in the first tank, all... _clones_. Blank, synthetic clones without true faces. Questions were present, and answers that needed to be found in order to understand the situation.

He pulled out his Binocs and took three recon photos of the tubes, along with the bodies inside. He was puzzled by the presence of synthetic clones, he never understood anything about cloning programs or technology, he knew a little bit about them, but he would rather discuss it with the rest of the team.

After acquiring the photos of the cloning tubes, he moved on down between two rows of tanks, and upon reaching the end of rows, a piece of strange technology caught his eye. A cubicle terminal with hundreds of wires linked to every tube in the laboratory. It looked bizarre, beyond abnormal, alike the Mind Shuffler from Prague, Czech Republic, they were both similarly strange. However, considering it was linking to the cloning tubes, it had something to do with the clones, and whether it was important or not, he took a photo, just in case.

Out of everything he had found in the laboratory was describing the entire complex facility as a cloning factory, which seemed like enough obtained intelligence for the rest of the job. Before he turned to left before triggering any alarms, one more thing caught his attention, a stash of crates.

Sly approached the crates, Binocs still in hand, as he bent down beside a lone, metal box. He holstered his cane on his back, raised his hands over the crate, and took hold of its lid. He removed the top, his eyes widened in surprise, it was filled with _spice_. Suspicious, his eyes traced back to the lid, he wiped the dust away from the top. With that came his most shocking information yet, for the crate lid held a symbol, the symbol of the Klaww Gang.

* * *

Meanwhile, back on the firing line, the recon troopers held their place as the androids began to advance towards them, and although the machines were aware that many of their own numbers were depleting, as the outsiders shot them down, they were also aware that they were getting closer.

One android, in particular, sprinted down hill and past a tree, only to be snatched by its skinny neck, caught off guard, by a large, reptilian fist. It was Black who had captured the machine, and with the knowledge that these robots look the same as Borg, he took the pleasure in ripping its round head off. It felt good, if only it had been the real Borg.

After that, many more fighting machines took its place, letting loose with several plasma rounds. Unfortunately, one shot of plasma raced and pierced Adams in the right arm, the impact knocked him off his feet, as he fell to the ground, yelling and cursing as he gripped his burnt arm.

Miraculously, Fitz and the Sergeant came to his aid. While the coyote stood between him and the approaching androids, shooting automatic fire of armor piercing rounds, as well as his weapon's grenade launcher, diminishing large groups of robots. All the while, Wilson carefully dragged the injured Adams behind the firing line, out of shooting sight.

As the shooting from both sides continued, many spits of plasma splashed against the side of the Team Van, which was beginning to get on Murray's nerves. Finally, he had had enough of it all. He put the gearshift in drive and floored it, setting everyone inside the van in confusion, steering the moving vehicle out from behind the firing line and towards the group of robots.

He floored it and ran over machines, stomping the breaks in the center of the androids. With that, he kicked the door open, and sent an uppercut to the first, closest robot, sending it flying.

Murray, threw a fist at each android, he grabbed a robot and swung it around, using it as a well-placed mallet. When all others were on the ground, the hippo grabbed hold of the robot in his grip and pulled it apart, roaring into the distance.

Although it appeared the battle was won, a remaining android, clever alike the rest of the machines, stood up, plasma rifle in hands, as it took aim for the hippo. However, before it could fire, the blast from another weapon shot it down, dead. The shooter, Borg, who had just leaped out of the team van, approached its smoldering form, sighed, and said, "Tsk, tsk, tsk. Inferior counterparts..."

**

* * *

**

**To Jercer: You are correct, not about the name, but that it was he who had created Borg, however, that's not the revelation about Borg that I had mentioned in the summary. But believe me, you will not want to miss a thing.**

**To Jammin Jabala: I have a question about your opinion, do you think I should name my chapters to Lockout?**

**To All Readers: This chapter has a lot of revelation to the plot. Things are going to get a lot more dramatic so I'll just make a suggest: if you want to keep up with the story, you may put it on the Alert List. Believe me, you will NOT be disappointed.**

**Review please, or else!**


	11. Chapter 11

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

* * *

**Special Thanks to Jammin Jabala for allowing me access to use his OC: Julius Black...**

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

* * *

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Inferior counterparts," Borg had said, as if ashamed to be the same model unit as the fallen hunter android.

Among the recon troopers, and Murray, who chanted in victory over the machines, Black felt like the only one watching the lone android alley bent down beside his counterpart. The crocodile observed as he detached the round head from its body, and stored it away in his satchel. It puzzled him about what Borg was planning to do with the head, perhaps he was going to download some information to upgrade himself. Mechanical cannibalism, that was what it was called, and already, it sent shivers up his spine.

His suspicion was born on the day he first met the machine, when the android had first mentioned "I already have plans." As they sailed across the seas in search of Captain Algernon's, Black began to notice that Borg sheltered more secrets than he did. While he planned mutiny, the android had some mysterious plans that he could not decipher, and to make things worse, Borg had known his intentions from the beginning and put an end to them. Now it was the crocodile's turn to get the upper hand.

After acquiring the head of the _inferior counterpart_, the android turned away from the headless machine and returned to the van to check on his patient. With possession of the robot's head, he should be able to enter into its program memory and learn of Howlers' situation. What interested him more was the boy, perhaps _he_ held better information as to what has gone since he had departed.

* * *

Later towards the noon of day, when the acid rain fall ceased, the reconnaissance team and Sly Cooper regrouped to their hideout within the cove, back aboard the _Gallantry_.

Within the captain's dorm was Sly, Bentley, Murray, Penelope, the Guru, the Panda King, Dimitri, the Sergeant, and Borg sat all around, and began to discuss the observations and intelligence they had collected so far. Out of the information they all had to share, the raccoon's appeared the most interesting, and so it was the first to be discussed.

"So... tell us again exactly what I found," Sly asked, as the turtle observed the photos.

"Clones. Synthetic clones to be more precise," he said, almost intrigued, "we've probably come upon discovering a cloning facility."

"But I thought it was a weapons factory," the raccoon said. And with that question, they all turned to Borg. Seeing as he was related to the same machines whom had attacked them before, it seemed like he may know what was going on.

"That I did, and there is a possibility that it's a _biological_ weapons factory; in which a living specimen is used as a weapon," the android pointed out, "the Director of the Military Weapons Program was a very tempting person."

"Okay... but what exactly was he doing here the last time you were present?" Bentley asked, "and most of all, _who_ is he?"

"I do not know, nor am I allowed to reveal the answer to the second question."

"Although, we might have a clue as to who might be behind this," Sly mentioned, pulling out the so-called clue; the crate lid, "does this symbol look familiar to anyone?"

They all studied the top of the lid, observing the Klaww Gang mark, and out of anyone else, Bentley and Murray were the most shocked. Seeing the all too familiar symbol of the group of villains was one of the most shocking revelation they have obtained. The Cooper Gang had thought they had done away with the Klaww Gang's spice operation, but it appeared as if the gang of villainy had more resources and installations cached in secret places.

"The Klaww Gang?" Said Murray, "Is that all you have that links to 'em?"

"No, I found this lid on a crate, filled with spice," Sly told the hippo. The turtle pondered.

"Hmm, this place must have been their territory, the Klaww Gang must have sent those other androids to raid Cache Isle, and this must be where they stabilize the spice in their operation." He said.

"Maybe, but that doesn't explain the boy we recovered _right before_ we were attacked," Wilson said, "nor does it explain the lab of synthetic clones Coop found."

"I agree," Bentley replied, "Dimitri, did you know anything about this? About an island with robots, people, and clones?"

"Oh my!"

"Nah, I never knew about anything of crazy science, I was groovin' and movin' in my Night Club, that was all I was in charge of," the lounge lizard replied.

"This is just getting more confusing, from the looks of things, Howlers is still operational, and yet the Klaww Gang had been taken down over a year ago," Bentley said.

"Then someone must be in command of Howlers' complex facility, someone who's breeding clones and torturing innocents," Penelope guessed, "it seems like the only solution."

"I don't think so. They Klaww Gang had separated since they all were brought down, and some are... _dead_." The turtle seemed bothered to admit it, "and the one who died was the only one with any intelligence in advanced technology."

"Then it must be someone else, someone who's not a member, or maybe a secret member," the raccoon suggested.

"Sounds possible, but I'm more concerned with what was going on with that kid," the Sergeant said, "he seemed scared beyond all reasons, and he got shot by a tranquilizer, just before we fell under attack by Borg's relatives."

"I, too, am puzzled about that as well." Said the Panda King.

"I did acquire this," Borg pulled out the head of the fallen android, whom which he had shot down, "I sure I can access its mission log mainframe and learn of its true purpose."

"That's some good news, Borg."

"I agree, but I recommend you get to it after you check on the injured," the Sergeant said, "I have two downed troops and a boy we don't even the name of."

"Agreed, it's time we have a little interview with him about Howlers' operations," Bentley seconded. Everyone agreed.

* * *

**Commentary: .**


	12. Chapter 12

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

* * *

**Special Thanks to Jammin Jabala for allowing me access to use his OC: Julius Black...**

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

**_

* * *

_**Undergoing the treatment of the infirmary, Jenkins lied on the bed with his back straight along the mattress, as Pierce sat in a chair beside his bed. The ocelot appeared conscious, but the pain restrained him from moving too much, any unnecessary movement could diminish his condition.

Across from his mattress, less injured but complaining as if so, Adams felt impatiently ridiculous lying on a bed, his entire torso stripped of armor, when he was in formidable condition to at least sit up. His only injuring was a burnt on his forearm from plasma fire, he did not require laying down.

With all sudden, the doors opened, revealing Bentley, Penelope, Neyla, the Sergeant, and Borg as the Doberman sighed, "Finally! I thought I wasn't gonna get outta here," he said, as he began to get sit up, but the android ushered him not to move.

"I must object, Mr. Adams, I cannot allow you to move until you have been treated," Borg told him, pulling out the surgical plastic and began to apply it over his would.

"Why? It's not like I'm dying here," he pointed out, yelping as the plastic stung his skin.

"Just let 'em do his stuff, boy," the Sergeant said, "he'll be done soon and we can move on."

"It's only a small scar, nothing too serious," Adams said, smirking.

"I disagree, it's the small and harmless appearance of a wound that deceives the host, thus leading to their end," Borg told him.

"Whatever," the Doberman replied, yelping again as a few stables attached the plastic to his skin.

"Now I suggest you take things easy with that wound, it will require time to heal," the android told him, now turning to tend to Jenkins. "Now then, Mr. Jenkins, this may sting a little," he warned.

While the android began to treat the ocelot, as the husky, Pierce, watched in concern, Adams sat up and swung his legs to the edge of the bed, relieved about finally being able to get, after the hours of lying down and careful maneuvering all around. Bentley and the Sergeant approached him, the cougar slapped a hand on his back.

"You've taken quite a duke, Adams," Wilson told him, "next time be a little more careful, I'd hate to have to break in a new guy."

"There's like over fifty guys on this ship, Sarge," he replied, "you can find anyone to take my place."

"None of us are expendable, boy, we need everyone we can get to survive an ordeal," he said, stepping aside to follow Bentley and Penelope over to the unconscious boy on the other side of the infirmary, as Neyla replaced him in his place in front of Adams.

"Y'know Adams, since the first time I saw you, I've always thought of you as Jack's adobted son," the white tigress told him, "and you seem to treat him as an annoying parent."

"Listen, Ex-Lt., the Sarge and I don't see eye-to-eye, he may act like a father but I don't give a damn," Adams spoke his truth, "I'm tired of that father-ship crap he keeps giving me."

With that comment, Neyla slapped him in the arm, across his plasma burn, which caused him to yelp in pain. After which, she grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him closer to hear her whisper, "You know, when you mess with the bull, you get the horns," she told him, releasing him.

"Well, then I'd hate to have to take anymore bull crap," Adams replied, "I don't like being treated like a freakin' kid, and I'd appreciate it if he and you showed a little faith in me."

"Look, we're not your parents..."

"I know that, you're not even married, I don't even think it'll last all that long between the two of you, and I would be a little less grouchy if you stopped pretending to be so."

Neyla did not say another word, she simply turned her cheek and walked away. After she left, Adams thought for a moment, wondering if he had been a little harsh, just before Freddy arrived, an ant farm in his possession.

"Hey Adams," the possum said, holding up his possession, "check it out, I put the ants I found out on Howlers into this ant farm."

"Isn't that Benny's ant farm?"

"Well... yeah, but I don't think he'll miss it, he's gotta girlfriend," Freddy exclaimed.

"Not that I care all that much, but what happened to his ants?"

"Oh, there still in here, I just put some of Howlers' ants in with 'em, but not to worry," the rodent held the ant farm in front of his face, looking into it, "I bet there all getting along just fine."

* * *

Meanwhile, within the ant farm tunnels, both species of ants were doing a lot of things other than "getting along." The Howlers ants, which were Army ants, completely invaded and conquered the black ants, who screamed and panicked in their natural insect language.

Like the Spartans, the Huns, or even a swarm of locusts, the Howlers ants conquered every small area of the ant farm. The destroyed there tunnels and catacombs, and, being the exotic alien species of ants, they slaughtered every last native ant. The last of the native ants was the queen, leader of the colony, who was over powered and torn apart by dozens of soldiers ants, and the Howlers queen ant took her place.

As the queen seized her throne, a giant eye watched over them, with misunderstanding thoughts. "Ahh... ... ... Look, they're playing a game."

**

* * *

**

**To slylady345: Thanks a million for the review! This has been my favorite review out of all of your previous reviews.**

**To Jercer: You know, you're the first person to actually ask about Neyla having laser eyes, how weird and funny is that? Anyway, the answer to your question, ironically, is going to be in this story. Revelation for all!**

**Anyway, any questions? Comments? Etc.?**


	13. Chapter 13

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

* * *

**Special Thanks to Jammin Jabala for allowing me access to use his OC: Julius Black...**

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

* * *

Beginning to awaken from unconsciousness, as if returning to the land of the living, Sawyer remained still for a second to sense his surrounds. He was lying on a mattress, not the cold-tiled floor or some worn out carpet, but an actual bed. This was very unsual for him, always in the past year had he been shot down with tranquilizers and he always awoke within the laboratories kennel, now he was here, in a strange room of which he was not familiar with.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, exposed to the light that nearly blinded him, and for a minute he thought he was dead. However, he looked away from the light, spotting two unfamiliar faces, two strangers before him.

The first was a male turtle wearing large, square-shaped glasses across his face, resting on his large nose, and his head topped with only a few hairs, which assured him that he was not entirely bald.

The second stranger was a female mouse, whom was also wearing a pair of glasses, much smaller than the turtle's, and wore a red bandanna over her head, along with a long tail hanging down her back.

"Hey there," she said, speaking in a smooth tone, "you've been on quite a trip."

"Where am I?" Sawyer asked, lifting himself up.

"Relax. Take it easy, you're safe now. You're aboard our ship," the turtle told him.

"Who are you people?"

"We're the Cooper Gang, my name is Bentley," the turtle replied, pointing to his associate, "and this is Penelope."

Sawyer observed further around his surroundings, spotting several other figures in the current room. A cougar stood behind them, dressed in the same armor that matched the outsiders whom he had seen previously. Next to him was a white tigress wearing, not recon armor or Black Ops jumpsuits, but casual citizen clothes.

"What's your name?" asked Penelope.

"J- John," he introduced, "John Sawyer."

He looked further across the room, spotting a Doberman stood up, pulling on a brown shirt, and a short opossum, holding an ant farm. Across from them, an ocelot lied on another mattress, as a husky and another figure stood beside him, as the ocelot yelped in pain.

"Okay, now listen John," Bentley instructed, "we're going to ask you a few questions."

The Grey wolf turned to the turtle in the wheelchair, nodding in response and preparations for this interview.

"First off, are you the only one on this island?" he asked, "the only sentient, I meant?"

"No, there are others on Howlers," Sawyer replied, "there are prisoners, alike me, who have been incarcerated into a fate none could stay sane from. And there are those hunters and wardens, the metal men."

"The 'metal men?'" Penelope replied, "Who are they?"

"They are the guardians of Howlers, and the ones who have placed a curse upon us," he explained, but froze at the sight of an android, _A metal man_!

The android strode over towards him, a strange object within his hand. As he appeared to hold out the object to him, Sawyer kicked him back immediately, leaping off the mattress, grabbed the nearest sharp object, and held it out to the mechanical demon.

"Stay away from me," he warned, the android bent down to pick up the object, "Just leave me alone!"

"Johnny! Calm down!" Penelope told him, the cougar approached and swiped the scalpel from his hand.

"Keep that demon away from me!"

"Pull yourself together," white tigress said, trying to usher him back to the mattress, "just take it easy."

Little by little, Sawyer calmed his breathing, as the metal man spoke.

"I was only going to check your heart rate," he claimed, "I was never attempting anything harmful, only helpful."

"You just stay away from me... you freak!" The wolf warned.

"How rude," replied the android, as he walked away.

After the machine had left their presence, Penelope turned to the young man, "Easy. I think you might have hurt his feelings."

"He's a metal man, they don't have feelings," Sawyer declared.

"Whoa!" the Doberman began, eying the wolf, "someone forgot to take their anger management pill this morning."

"Adams, stow it!" the cougar growled.

"You can't trust him," Sawyer exclaimed, "he's one of them."

"One of- one of who?" Bentley asked, confused with this sense of attitude that the young man was displaying towards the android. "Borg is one of us, he's our friend."

"No. He's one of the metal men who cursed me, who cursed all of us," the wolf exclaimed, "You cannot trust him, he's apart of that hellhole, in league with the devil. He'll betray you."

With those final three words, he knew he had at least given them a warning to what lied ahead. For those whom were still incarcerated within the complex facility, he needed to provide those who have come before him to rescue him with some reliable information. The warning of the metal man "Borg" was the beginning, and he needed them to know the dangers of betrayal within its programming.

After all the years he had been trapped within this ordeal, Howlers' Island was the pit of evil and he needed to inform them about the complex facility, if they were to rescue the rest of the prisoners. And so, he did.

**

* * *

**

**To Jercer: Not so much, it is questionable about the coming of a Sly4. It has been five standard years since Sly3 and SuckerPunch had yet to say when or really show an official trailer regarding a sequel to it. But there's a possibility that if they are not already starting a sequel to inFAMOUS, then they're probably working on a Sly4 as we speak. It's possible!**

**Review please, or else!**


	14. Chapter 14

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

* * *

**Special Thanks to Jammin Jabala for allowing me access to use his OC: Julius Black...**

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

* * *

No more than half an hour had Johnathan Sawyer explained the critical of Howlers' complex facility, and during which, Bentley and Penelope compared their own information with his in order to achieve a better understand of what they were up against. He told them that the other prisoners were incarcerated within the kennels of the facility, and gave a deep hearted description of how the androids treated them all like animals. But for some odd reason, the young man could not bring himself to tell them of the beast inside of him. Already, everything he had told them sounded beyond sane, how could he possibly explain that a monster was sleeping inside of him, ready to awaken at night?

As the poor, tortured boy told them every detail, Bentley came to the uncertain yet possible conclusion; this young man _was_apart of the biological weapons program on Howlers. He lowered his head in deep thought, deep enough so that nothing could distract him, not even when Sly and company entered the infirmary. Nothing appeared to make probable or understandable logical. The bio-weapons program, the spice shipment crates, the synthetic clones, the symbol of the Klaww Gang, _and_ this mysterious boy whom happens to be _apart_ of it all?- It just did not add up!

"Hey pal," Sly greeted, standing behind him. It always annoyed the turtle whenever the raccoon "magically" appeared next to him and "suddenly" disappear whenever he turned to face him. However, he was not disturbed by him at the moment, it was the puzzle of this mystery he was trying to piece together, "you alright?"

The turtle placed his elbow on his chair's arm and his hand on his chin to support his head, "Yeah, I'm all right. I'm just a little frustrated is all," he admitted.

"We can't figure out the situation," Penelope added, "we know the pieces to the puzzle, but we can't put them together."

"May I make a suggestion?" Borg asked, placing the removed android head on his desk, "Now that the patients are insured, I can access my counterpart's memory software and learn of its programming. I should be able to discover what it is we are up against."

"And if you do learn of its programming, are you planning on telling us?" Sly asked. Behind him, the Sergeant folded his arms.

"Well, this is restricted information that must be kept classified from any and all outsiders, which includes you all. so with that, I make no promises..." The android replied, pulling a plug and cord from his head. As he was about to insert his plug into the machine head, Wilson stopped him, grabbing his skinny arm holding the cord and held it away from the head.

"Now hold up there, Tinman, ever since we got here you've been keeping secrets from us," the Sergeant pointed out, "and I think it's high time you give us a reason to trust you."

"As I recall, I _have _given you a reason to trust me, Mr. Wilson," Borg told him, "if not for me, you would have been at the bottom of the ocean, either dead or digested. Which in this case is the same thing."

"Yeah, he would have been sleeping with the fishes..." Adams whispered to Freddy.

"'Sleeping with the fishes?'- what, was he getting an apartment with Spongebob Squarepants?!" The rodent replied.

Without hearing a word of their remarks, the android went on, "...And I have yet to hear a decent 'thank you' since your rescue and treatment."

Alike their previous chess game back on Cache Isle, Borg had reached a stalemate that left the Sergeant silent and dumbfound. Defeated, the cougar scratched the back of his neck, and was left to only admit that his king had been overrun, "You're right... thanks... for saving my skin back then." He said, releasing the machine's arm as he nearly choked on his own pride. He was grateful, but it did not mean he was not suspicious.

"You're truly welcome," the android replied, and withdrew his plug and inserted it into the other machines head. As a result, his eyes changed from its bright blue color to a processing green, as his figure stood listless.

Everyone else watched in curiosity of what the robot was seeing through his counterpart's head. Most of them were never holding an interest in technology, but it never meant they could be interested in the cyberspace. Sly shot the Sergeant a confused look, the cougar only shrugged his shoulders. Borg stood listless and silent for a few minutes, and then finally returned from his "trip."

"Oh dear," the machine began, sounding as if disconsolate, "oh dear, oh dear... this is not good..."

"Is it something we should know?" Bentley asked, turning his wheel chair to face the machine.

"Oh believe me, it's nothing you want to know," Borg exclaimed, sounding slightly afraid of something, as he removed his plug from the head.

"Want to or not, we still need to know what's got you jumpy," Sly seconded with the turtle, leaning on his cane.

"I highly believe that it would be better if we went about the rest of our lives without knowing," the android suggested, "which is why Mr. Sawyer here must be returned to the complex facility's kennels."

The young man gasped under his own breath as his blood ran cold, "No..." he whispered. After suffering a year and finally eluding the metal men hunters he was not prepared to return there again. "No... no..."

"Borg, we can't just abandon this kid to the other androids," Neyla remarked, "isn't there another way?"

"Why yes, I'm sure we can acquire an antidote within the facility."

"An antidote? An antidote to what?" Penelope asked, anxious.

"That, I am not allowed to tell you, and if we do not return him to the kennels, we may end up learning in the most disturbing times," the android explained, "So I suggest we take the young man and.."

"_No!!!_" Sawyer yelled, leaping from the mattress and snatching the Sergeant's holstered pistol, pointing it straight at the machine, "_I'm _not_ going back there!!!_"

His breathing was provoked as he held the firearm at Borg, as well as anyone who dared to relieve him of the weapon. Being the only one, as far as he could tell, holding a lethal weapon, he could never understand nor see the hostile he was becoming. If possible, the beast would have awoke from his yelling, and perhaps even it would fear him, _or_ it would take his place in terrorizing the crowded infirmary.

However, he was caught unaware as a small dart punctured his arm. Dumbstruck, he did not notice that someone had aimed a tranquilizer on him, he had been to distracted in killing the android. As the drug of the dart flew through his bloodstream, he lost his grip on the weapon, and slumped, once again, into unconsciousness.

* * *

**.**


	15. Chapter 15

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

* * *

**Special Thanks to Jammin Jabala for allowing me access to use his OC: Julius Black...**

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

**_

* * *

_**Catching the tranquilized wolf before he could fall to the hard wood of the ground, Neyla and Sergeant Wilson carried the unconscious young man back onto the mattress. No more than a minute ago, Sawyer was wildly hostile, obviously too afraid to comply with the rest of the Gang. Everyone looked to Bentley, who had injected him with one of his sleep darts, as the turtle shrugged, "Quick thinking, Bentley," Sly complimented.

"I only did what was necessary," the turtle exclaimed, "he was pointing a loaded weapon without any firearm training or experience towards us, he could have seriously hurt someone."

"Still, you've shown quite some fast thinking there, Slick," the Sergeant remarked, "I'd like to see what you can do with a concussion assault rifle."

"Don't count on _that_, I'm no soldier."

"So what do you suggest we do about Johnny?" Asked Sly.

"I already told you," Borg exclaimed, "we must bring him back to the kennels before nightfall, or risk dire consequences."

"What kinda consequences?"

"I already told you; _dire_ consequences."

"But what are we up against?" Penelope asked, "I mean, we can't just leave Johnny and the others left prisoner here. And what about everything else we found?- The clones, the spice, what if it _is_ a weapons program? It could be a problem, not just to us, but to everyone on a global basis. And what about the treasure?"

That was right. During the recon missions and events that had surprised them above logical explanations, they had forgotten the lost treasure of Algernon, which had been raided from Cache Isle before they even arrived. There was multiple assignments needed to be accomplished.

There was a long pause. "We'll have to divide and conquer," Bentley exclaimed, "one team will infiltrate the complex facility, find the treasure and learn about what's going on; while the other team escorts John to these so-called kennels."

"I'll take care of the kid," the Sergeant said, "Pierce, Rogers, Vasquez and I will travel through the woods and give these kennels a look for ourselves."

"What about us?" Adams asked, as a curious Freddy perched up his ears.

"You, Fitz, Marcus and Black will accompany the other team in the infiltration of the complex facility. You might be a little more useful there."

"And I guess I'll lead the infiltration team," Sly exclaimed, "Bentley, Murray and I will find out what's going on and get the loot."

"Actually, _you_ and Murray will find out what's going on and acquire the wealth," Bentley corrected. The raccoon and the hippo shot him a confused look. "Considering Borg claims John's apart of the biological weapons program, I'd like to see if there's anything I can do about it. So I'm going with Wilson."

"But... what if we need your help in the lab?" Murray asked, "What if something happens to Borg and we can't get to the treasure?"

"Don't worry about that, I taught Penelope a few hacking maneuvers for when she finds a computer, scan handle things in my place," the turtle assured, the mouse grinned and nodded.

"Yeah, Borg and I should be able to find the loot in the lab," Penelope seconded.

After a consultation between everyone in the infirmary, detailing the whereabouts and assigned groups, only one person felt annoyed at being left out of it all. When she finally could not take it any longer, she decided to step in and take charge.

"I'm coming too," Neyla said, stepping in.

Everyone gave her a near surprised look, and the first person to object was the Sergeant. "I don't think so, Neyla. I think you should stay here."

"Thanks for your concern, Jack," the white tigress replied, "But I think I'd be a lot more useful out there than here."

"Maybe, but we need someone to watch over the _Gallantry_."

"The Panda King can do that," Neyla pointed out, "besides, I'm beginning to feel like you don't trust me."

"What?- Of course I trust you," Wilson exclaimed, trying to consult her.

The two argued, creating a cheap entertainment for the rest of the crew. Neyla, although knowing he wanted her to stay because he was worried about her, did not want to be left out of anything else that the Sergeant got himself into. It annoyed her whenever he left on some adventure regarding a life's thrill without her, and it almost seemed as if he would prefer adventures over her.

Finally, one among the audience of the crew had just about enough of this so-called show. According to the android's directions, they needed to get the young man back to the kennels of the complex facility, and if this argument between the couple went on any longer, they will not be able to comply with the instructions before nightfall. Time was being eaten up by such a complex and now annoying argument.

"Alright, that's enough," Bentley said, both Neyla and the Sergeant ceased speaking, "Look, Neyla can go with Sly and the infiltration team into the laboratory to find out what all this is about and recover the loot."

Wilson could agree with that decision, as could Neyla, although they both would be apart, it insured the Sergeant that she would be safe, and it allowed Neyla an opportunity to earn a little trust and faith from the cougar.

With that, they both folded their arms and agreed, "Fine."

"Okay then, we all have our assignments," Bentley began, "Blue Team: Sly, Murray, Penelope, Neyla, Borg, Fitz, Adams, Marcus and Black will infiltrate the complex facility laboratory, while Red Team: Wilson, Rogers, Pierce, Vasquez and myself will escort John Sawyer and investigate the kennels. We should be able to see what type of biological weapons these prisoners are involved in. Let's go."

**

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**

**Anyway, any questions? Comments? Etc.?**


	16. Chapter 16

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

* * *

**Special Thanks to Jammin Jabala for allowing me access to use his OC: Julius Black...**

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

* * *

After the briefing conclusion that the operation will be underway more earlier than anticipated, both teams suited up, armed themselves, and prepared for the laboratory robbery. Although some were still anxious as to this biological weapon that they restrained Sawyer, tied him up, and placed him onto a stretcher for transportation, but they were not entirely assured it would be all that was needed. However, the only thing that bothered anyone was that they were executing an operation earlier than they should. Normal, when a heist was in motion, it was scheduled for night, when it was dark and provided the means of stealth to be activated, but this was too serious to do things "by the book," it was an exception.

Among the grunts of the two teams, Julius Black kept his attention to himself, as all militia soldiers of the _Gallantry _entered the arsenal storage. Out of all the places on this vessel, the crocodile could find no better place of comfort to him than a room with wall-to-wall gunracks. There were weapons of both classes, from the smuggled, under-law Concussion Class weaponry to the ShocTech firearms commonly used by Interpol. There were many different types of weapons within this the galleon's arsenal, of both classes; lethal pistols, assault rifles, submachineguns, shotguns, sniper rifles, smoke _and _stun grenades, land mines, flamethrowers, machetes, chain-guns, and even a bazooka, but that weapon was individually owned by the Panda King. Either weapon suited him as long as the weapon does its job, shoots and kills.

"Alright troops," the Sergeant exclaimed, "welcome to the ship's arsenal library. Feel free to choose and check out anything, as long as you plan on returning it."

With such an invitation of access to an entire arsenal, everyone accepted, including Black. He unhesitatingly snatched a conc-assault rifle, sliding it into the holster on his back as a secondary weapon, and collected four magazines from the basket. He was unaware of what could be inside the complex facility's laboratory, other than the treasure there was a possibility there were more androids, most of which exactly like Borg, and since the lone and annoying machine could defeat him in a one-on-one fist fight, he was not taking any chances as to engage another. For his next weapon of selection, which he would have to carry by hand all through the lab, was the fierce chain-gun. He had some occasional knowledge of the weapon, it had almost unlimited ammunition and could not be reloaded, and given its weight, he would have to carry it over his shoulder to fully support it. He turned his attention, out of random curiosity, to observe the others' selection.

Other than himself, the others selected the more common weaponry for an infiltration. Due to the fact that _some _have actually participated in commando missions, and have recently mentioned it, the rest observed them and followed their advice. Despite the fact that they have indeed seen action while sailing across the seas and ocean through this voyage, they were still mere pirates and inexperienced thieves, not suited or prepared for conflicts such as standing in a firing line and infiltrating a fortress.

Adams' movement's were slow as he wrapped the assault rifle's sling over his shoulder, because his arm was still burnt from the plasma shot, it stung whenever he moved it too much. Even as he tied the armored protection cover over his shoulder, it bothered him just to don the armor. Ignoring the pain, he picked up a conc-rifle and inserted a magazine into it, as well as store a few away in his satchel, and holstered a shotgun, accepting the Sergeant's advice on a close-combat weapon.

Selecting a more lighter arsenal of weaponry, Fitz slipped two submachineguns into his belt's holster, as well as two conc-pistol, each next to a single SMG. He had never fancied carrying heavy weapons on assignments, although he had occasionally used a few in previous times, as long as they were explosive. When he was given the permission, the option, or even the proper tools to blow something up he would not refuse, _that_ was his weakness. If he was handed a rocket launcher, a grenade launcher, or even a high-class purpose detonator, one would be smart to stay out of his way.

While collecting a few firearms and magazines, Pierce as mentally distracted, not at all sharing the same proud feelings about raiding the last of the treasure. It was Jenkins, whom was still in the infirmary, it had scared him nearly to death when his friend was caught into the explosion, _thank the Lord he was still alive_. Before he left his ocelot friend, he had told him "Stay gold," in which he meant to stay alive, strong, and ready for the world. However, he knew it probably did not mean that, he had recalled it from a poem of some type, in any case, he was still planning on returning to the infirmary to tell Jenkins to "Stay gold" again.

The rest of Red and Blue Team gathered common grunt weapons; a few conc-rifles, pistols, shotguns, SMGs, and even flamethrowers. But other than the firearms, they were advised to carry a few grenades, flares, spare magazines, motion trackers, explosives, and other equipment. Even with the weapons, tactics and a plan, they were only militia pirates, not official soldiers. Some were only thieves engaged and specialized in heists, not commandos trained for black-ops, and only one person seemed concerned for that.

Storing six magazines and holstering two duel-pistols, Sergeant Wilson picked up a conc-rifle and an unlit flamethrower, tying two canisters firmly on the right side of his belt, each holding gasoline to fuel the fierce weapon. Although he was concerned for the othermilitia soldiers, whom he knew were not properly trained for such conflict, he was more worried about Neyla.

Speaking of whom, the white tigress had collected an impressive arsenal for herself. Sliding two duel-pistols into her belt holsters, as well as a SMG, she glanced at him, giving him a quick smile, assuring him that she will be alright, before turning away again. For better or worse, if anything went wrong, she was confident not to go down without a fight.

However, Black did not care for their affections or feelings for each other, nor did he care for the rest of the pirates and thieves whom were there for the same goal. The treasure belonged to _him_. He was going to shoot down anyone who stood between him and the treasure; the other adversary androids, this so-biological weapon, and even the crewmen who believed him to be their teammate in this assignment. No matter what happens, he was going to acquire the Seeker's Scroll from the Cooper raccoon, and then recover the rest of the treasure.

* * *

Within the captain's dorm of the _Gallantry_, the Cooper Gang individually prepared in their own usual manner. Bentley kept his crossbow in check and nearby, as well as plenty of soporific darts and grenades of ammunition to participate in an operation. Penelope had her own weapon of choice, a rapier she had recently acquired from Seeker's Isle, during the beginning of this treasure hunt. Murray adjusted his gloves and mask, to assure better movement when in combat with an adversary.

As for Sly Cooper, he packed up his usual equipment in a small, flat satchel on his back, as well as within the pouch tied on his leg. His usual arsenal of a few gadgets: smoke pellets, flash grenades, a pair of rocket boots, a wrist motion tracker, cloaking device,decoy standee, Binoc-u-com, and his most precious heirloom, the Cooper crosier. Finally, he turned to the Seeker's Scroll, lying open upon the desk, and picked it up. There was question rising with the raccoon's mind, he thought he was on a treasure hunt, not another operation. Had the Scroll deceived them all?

No matter the case, there was still treasure as an award if they succeed, and the operation of storming a laboratory, saving casualties and civilian lives, and shutting down a weapons program that could be a threat to the whole world was all apart of their usual intentional doings, for the greater good. For tonight, Operation: Lockout was underway.

* * *

**Anyway, Review please. Any questions? Comments? Etc.?...**


	17. Chapter 17

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

* * *

**Special Thanks to Jammin Jabala for allowing me access to use his OC: Julius Black...**

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

* * *

Four hours after noon, after selecting and collecting an arsenal for their movement towards the complex facility, the still unconscious and restrained Sawyer was carried into the team van, where his stretcher was tied down to secure him for the drive. Once the young wolf was secured, each of the pirate commandos hopped into the vehicle, following the Sergeant's directions and arrangement of seating. His group, Red Team, sat cooped on the right side, and considering they would exit the vehicle first, they held their weapons in their laps, ready to drop. Blue Team, on the other hand, sat across from them, resting their weapons beside their backs. All that both groups waited for was the rest of the Cooper Gang, and then they would begin Operation: Lockout.

Outside of the vehicle, as Murray took his place in the driver's seat with his hands on the steering wheel, Sly, Bentley, Penelope and Borg were all they were waiting on. The four operatives were speaking with the Panda King, as the Chinese giant panda stood wearing an apron, his arm wrapped around a pot as he continued to stir it with a wooden spoon. Almost simultaneously, Freddy the possum sprinted past them, an assault rifle in his hand, and made his way to the foot of the back entrance of the van.

"Hey guys, what's up?" The rodent said, about to hop onto the vehicle until Adams stopped him.

"Hold up, Freddy," he ushered him back, "what are you doing?"

"Aren't I coming along? Which team am I on?"

"I don't recall the Sarge mentioning you going with anyone."

"Oh c'mon! I brought my own rifle," the possum held out the firearm, grinning, just before the Doberman shot him a distasteful look, "What?"

"Freddy, I don't think he called for you, nor would he let you hold a lethal weapon along the way," Adams told him, "whether you're coming or staying here."

"Oh relax, I'm sure that when Jack said 'Freddy, you're not even allowed to _look_ at a gun,' he didn't mean _me_," Freddy replied, his confident grin fading into a anxious and slightly worried one.

Adams was not convinced, "Hand it over..." he said, extending his hand. The rodent's smile faded in defeat as he turned the conc-assault rifle over to the Doberman, "Now why don't you go find a way to entertain yourself or something?"

"I'll just be boring myself to take a nap... What's the point?"

"Then just go take a nap!"

"Alright, whatever." And with that, Freddy spun around and left, and the Doberman, with an extra firearm in his possession, placed it beside his other conc-assault rifle. After all, two guns were better than one, _that_, Fitz had mentioned once or twice a time.

Meanwhile, when all that was needed was for the Cooper Gang to take their place, the group of master thieves, and the robot, concluded a few more things with each other about the operation. While the thieves were traveling with the platoon of pirates, the Panda King would mind the ship and the rest of the crew.

"Okay Panda King, we'll probably be back around night time, if not, then by morning, give or take," Bentley informed the giant panda, "so take care of the crew while we're gone, and keep watch... I have a feeling in my shell that there's more to worry about than what we've encountered already."

"Fine, I shall watch over the ship with a father's protecting eyes and care, as I should have with my daughter before," he replied, sounding as if disappointed or depressed.

"Hey, we rescued her before harm could come," Sly reminded him, placing a hand on his large shoulder, "she's safe and sound now."

"I know, and I am forever grateful for what you have done for me," the giant panda placed his rifle fist into his left palm, bowed to the raccoon and turtle, and then turned to leave.

"Alright, the _Gallantry_'s secured, and I trust we can count on him to take care of it," the turtle said, "now all let's review a few things over the operation... just so we're all clear when we rendezvous in the weapons lab."

"I agree," Borg began, "it is important that I let you know that the complex facility has an Artificial Intelligence in control. NAI01, nicknamed 'Noah,' the Motherborg mainframe of the laboratory's System of Control, and also, the Professor's assistant."

"But I thought _you_ were the scientist's assistant," Penelope remarked.

"Why yes, I am the assistant of all biological weapon programs and biotechnology," he corrected, "It is Noah who is the closest to the Professor and is the assistant for most, if not all, of his research. I am, what you would call, the 'second helper' to my creator."

"Okay, and is this 'Noah' assistant gonna be a problem or at least something we should be concerned about?" Bentley asked, anxious.

"You may say that," the android replied, "Noah is the autopilot of the complex facility, which may explain why any and all of the Professor's projects are still in motion. She may seem a little harsh, she does not trust outsiders and/or intruders at all, only to allies of her, of _our_ creator."

"So... I'm guessing we can't just walk through the door, stroll down the hall, and snatch the loot?" the raccoon asked.

"Perhaps not, no. It may be more difficult than spoken," the android's voice lowered, and then suddenly lifted, "But if I can connect myself into the System of Control, I may be able to consult and convince her that you mean no harm to any programs of the Professor..."

"...And if she buys it," Penelope continued his theory, "I should be able to find a computer somewhere, find out what's going on in there, and we can find a way to shut it down."

"As long as Borg keeps her convinced long enough to let him control the whole facility, the biological weapons program will be history and she, or the Professor an his allies, won't know what hit 'em," Bentley concluded.

"Plus, we can get the treasure right under her nose," Sly added, grinning. "This is all too easy."

"Only when it is said," mentioned the machine, "there will still be other androids guarding the laboratory. And until I take control of the complex facility, they will surely hunt you all down and try to kill you."

"Don't worry, we have a talent for getting around guards and outsmarting them," the raccoon replied. "You just get to that system and open a clear path to the treasure for us, and if you can, try and shut down this whole biological warfare operation."

"It will be done, sir," Borg exclaimed, nodding his head in a slight bow, "I owe you much for employing me, and I promise to do whatever I can to assist you in this treasure hunt."

"You've been a good man, Borg, for a machine that is," Sly remarked, "I'm not so sure if we could've gotten this far without you."

"I agree with that analogy." The android had replied. With that final, concluding responce, the four operatives turned and hopped into the team van. Sly was seated next to Murray, while the others sat with Red Team and Blue Team. With all operatives buckled in and ready to go, the hippo driver stepped on the gas peddle and drove the vehicle down the ramp and off the ship, and through the dead woods. Along the way, Borg was touched by the trust they had all put into him, and if he could, he might have even cried.

But within his computer brain, a plan formulated, not one that is to be explained nor mentioned so soon, but one he was intending to perform and accomplish. Although, on many occasions, it did seem unfair to keep so many secrets from his employers, they at least deserved a right to know what the biological weapon was. He was going to reveal that information, as well as everything to them about the complex facility and its owner, but considering he was restricted to do so, Borg was going to wait until he had the chance to delete that protocol.

**

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**

**Review please, or else!**


	18. Chapter 18

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

* * *

**Special Thanks to Jammin Jabala for allowing me access to use his OC: Julius Black...**

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

* * *

After a long, almost completely boring drive throughout the dead woods, Murray tapped the brake peddle with his big toe, temporarily parking the Team Van/Humvee near the foot of the hill, which was within a mile of the complex facility. When it came to a complete halt, the escort team stood up, collected their equipment, picked up the stretcher carrying young Sawyer, and carefully stepped out of the vehicle and onto the ground. Outside, standing to attention and alert, was Pierce, Rogers and Vasquez, and the last two operatives to leave the vehicle, Bentley and the Sergeant, explained their next move of the infiltration.

"Okay guys," the turtle began, "you head on over to the laboratory and take control of the facility. Wilson and I will take the long way, through the kennels, and we'll give you the signal to let us in when we need you. We should rendezvous inside the lab in a matter of time. Good luck."

"Same to you, pal," Sly replied, saluting to him as he rolled down the ramp, followed by the cougar. As soon as they doors closed, the vehicle resumed motion and drove around the right side of the hill, whereas Red Team would be taking the left side around the hill, which was, as they all believed, closer to the so-called kennels that held the other prisoners captive.

"Alright team," the Sergeant started, pumping a magazine into his conc-assault rifle, "Keep your guns raised, fingers on your triggers, and watch your fire... we've got a package to deliver, and I'd like to get back in one piece. Are you with me, sailors?"

"Sir, yes sir!" all three pirates chanted, all turning their weapons' _safety_ off.

"Alright then... Pierce, Vasquez, I want you two to carry Johnny boy. Rogers, keep an eye on our sides and rear," the Sergeant directed, as they followed his directions. He turned to the turtle, "Okay Benny, since you've got the map, you lead the way. We'll be right behind you."

Bentley was rather empowered by this, he had recently formulated the operations and told everyone what to do, but he never lead a whole squad through the woods to carry out his plan, directly.

"Okay, let's move."

"You heard 'em, sailors!" Wilson exclaimed back to the team, "Double time!"

* * *

Almost simultaneously, back on the _Gallantry_, it was all quiet and peaceful, for the rest of the crew went about their own business and kept the ship in ship-shape. Within the kitchen, the Panda King prepared for the upcoming dinner by cooking multiple dishes of ribs, corn on a cob, and potatoes. All the while, Jenkins laid on his mattress in the infirmary, attempting to get the rest Borg had informed him he should acquire.

During which, a certain possum was, too, taking a nap, as Adams had suggested. Freddy had stored himself underneath the desk of the captain's dorm, where he slept curled up and out of the light. Considering the other crew members snored too loudly than he could handle, he left the barracks and migrated to a more quiet place to sleep.

As Freddy slept soundly, just above him on top of the desk was the ant farm, containing the Howlers' exotic ants. Although he believed the ants were contained, he had no idea how wrong he was.

The ants, and their abnormally large intelligence, had managed to removed the top of the ant farm from underneath. With the lid off, the ants freely crawled out of the container, onto the desk, and towards the sleeping rodent.

* * *

Meanwhile, Murray drove the humvee, which Sly and the rest of the infiltration team were sitting inside, waiting, around the hill and continued towards their destination. Blue Team; Sly, Murray, Penelope, Neyla, Fitz, Adams, Marcus, Black and Borg, took up the new free space of the van, now with the first team gone, they were given a little more room to settle within.

"We're coming up to the lab," the hippo driver annouced, steering the vehicle to drive slower to prevent triggering an alarm. Sly looked up, holding his Binocs in front of his sight to catch an observation of the facility.

It was exactly as he previously remembered it, the complex facility. It still held the same appearance of most laboratories out of a horror film, the only missing ingredients to describe it any further were the dark, black blanket of the night above, strikes of lightning from the heavens, and the roaring of afterward thunder.

"Alright team, this is it," the raccoon announced, "we're getting close to the point where we infiltrate the lab and subjugate it to our side."

As the Blue Leader briefed them of their objective, the pirate commandos prepared themselves for the infiltration. Adams and Marcus each pumped a fresh magazine into their conc-rifles, the Doberman loaded his secondary weapon with twelve gauge shots, while the black panther fueled his unlit flamethrower, carefully returning it to his back. Fitz loaded both his SMGs with plenty of clips just before he holstered his conc-assault rifle on his back.

"Once we're inside, we'll make our way into the center of the facility, where Neyla and Borg will break formation and head for the System of Control, while the rest of us provide a small distraction for them."

Black returned the conc-assault rifle to his back and picked up the heavy chain-gun, wrapping its sling around his shoulder to support it better.

"After we've provide a big enough distraction, we'll split up again. Penelope, Murray and I will search for a computer where we can get some answers from, while the rest of you go look for the vault that should hold the treasure.

"Borg," the raccoon glanced at the machine, "as soon as you get into the system, create an entrance for Bentley and Wilson to get through, and make a clear path for them to meet up with us."

"Understood, sir," the android replied, nodding his head.

Murray drove the van past the visual range of the complex facility and around the laboratory, where a large sewer pipe was spotted. It was not a pleasant thought of breaking and entering a biological weapon manufacturing station through its sewage pipe. Who knows what waste has been left to flow down the drainage of this strange factory? Penelope and Neyla contained every urge to complain, Sly and Murray would just shake it off and remember there was treasure as an award, and the others just choose not to care.

As soon as the vehicle came to another complete stop, the doors swung open and the pirate commandos leaped out, weapons raised and pointed in every direction. Murray and Sly stepped out of the front seats and onto the ground. The van had been parked next to a small stream of strange colored liquids flowing from the sewer pipe, which was sealed with a bars to prevent intruders from attempting an break-in via the sewers. However, what those gear-heads did not count on was that the group of intruders had brawn.

"Looks like they're trying to keep us out," Penelope exclaimed, adjusting her rapier to her belt.

"Murray, do your stuff," Sly remarked, turning to his hippopotamus friend, as he cracked his knuckles.

Murray made his way to the bar door and, grunting a few times, put his strength into his actions. However, no matter how much strength he put into it, no progress seemed to be made. The bars stayed stiff and rigid, unmovable, and the hippo was just about to quit. Until, suddenly, another pair of hands curled its fingers underneath the bar door and lifted it up, as if it were weightless.

Everyone, including the hippo, stared slack-jawed at Neyla, who had opened the bar door and cleared the way without breaking a sweat. "Well, what are we waiting for?- Let's move, people," the white tigress announced, lifting Murray's chin with her fingers as she passed him. He took the message and closed his mouth, feeling surprised at her sudden remarkable strength, and embarrassed for letting his mouth drop. But considering everyone else was in the same state as he was, he quickly got over that.

Little by little, everyone too redeem themselves and followed to catch up with the white tigress, their guards on and weapons' _safeties_ off, as they crept into the sewer pipes of the laboratory. As they broke and entered the factory, leaving the vehicle parked and hidden underneath camouflage, the sun in its time loomed past the south and north equator, and was now sinking into the west. The greenish-blue sky was now fading into a red orange color, in which would soon be dark within two standard hours. Nighttime was on its way.

* * *

**.**


	19. Chapter 19

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

* * *

**Special Thanks to Jammin Jabala for allowing me access to use his OC: Julius Black...**

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

**_

* * *

_**

Time went by and the sun continued to slowly sink into the equator, as the red orange sky was beginning to shift lightly, becoming a darker red. When the crew had first laid eyes on Howlers' Island, they could not find a positive description for it, it barely looked like a paradise, more like a graveyard island. But nearing nighttime, as the sunset took place, it would truly inject fear into the core of their beings, and without knowing it, Howlers' would become past a harmless nightmare. Whether it was outside in the dead woods or inside the safety of the complex facility, it would be a rough night for everyone.

After recently breaking and entering into the laboratory through the sewer pipes, prowling through the waste of...they tried not to think about it too hard, and sneaking and crawling underneath a drainage grate floor structure, Blue Team had surpassed the desire to vomit and have replaced it with the determination of find the treasure. They prowled under the drainage grate, from what they could see up ahead, they had left the sewers. To their relief, each of them released their breath freely into the more cleaner, better smelling oxygen of the laboratory.

Now creeping underneath the drainage grate throughout the lab's hallway, the sound of footsteps strolling along the grates snatched their attention. They all looked up, spotting an android walking just over them, and with that, they all fell silent. The pirate commandos raised their guns to point upwards at the unsuspecting machine, Adams and Marcus held their conc-assault rifles in the same direction as Black's chain-gun, as they readied to fire.

However, just before they could take a shot, Sly waved his hand to them and shook his head, telling them not to fire. He had snuck into secured places such as this before, if one were to make the slightest sound an alarm would be set off, and their element of surprise would be wasted all to take done a single guard. The best option to remain in stealth was to just let the android carry on to its own business and leave, so that they, themselves, could carry on to their own business.

As soon as the robot disappeared from sight and the door slid close, Murray placed his palms against a loose piece of grate, and pushed it upwards, creating an open entrance into the hallway. The hippo held the grate up a few inches off the rest of the floor as the raccoon lifted his head to catch sight of a surveillance camera, inspecting the entire hallway. If they step into its sight, their stealth will be broken.

"Surveillance camera in the middle of the hallway," he whispered to the others just before he lowered back down underneath the grates.

As a response, Fitz reached into his pocket and pulled out a thin, 3-inches long gun barrel, useful for modifying a regular firearm, such as an assault rifle, a submachinegun or even a pistol, into a marksman's sniper weapon of skill. He took out his pistol and inserted the barrel into it, "Don't worry," the coyote remarked, holding his new sniper pistol into view, "Fitzy's got this covered."

He poked his head up to get a peek of the target, the security camera simply rotated back and forth, searching in the other direction. He lifted his weapon, lining up the dot with the target, he silenced his breath, and waited. The camera slowly spun around, about to spot them, he flipped his finger over the trigger and fired. To his luck, the bullet flew and landed straight into the glass eye scope of the camera, instantly destroying it and relieving it of commission.

With the camera out of order, Murray safely heightened the grate and, one-by-one, the rest of Blue Team crawled out from the opening and onto the grate drainage floor.

"Alright team," Sly began again, "we've made it inside and haven't trigger any alarms, luckily. But this doesn't stop here, now that we're in, it's time we split up. Neyla and Borg; you go look for the System of Control. Everyone else; you're all with me, Murray and Penelope."

"We'll report to you as soon as we've found the System," the white tigress told him, as she and the android headed off into the other direction.

After they were gone, the commandos of the team took the time to prepare a little further before they run into any conflict with the enemy. Laser pointer were attached to their conc-rifles and SMGs, grenades were ready to be grabbed, activated thrown in case they were needed, and motion trackers were activated to alert them of motion.

Murray replaced the grate lid back onto the floor, making everything look as if it had never been touched. Penelope adjusted her satchel more tightly around her shoulders, which was holding most of her equipment, except for her own MT, which was held in her hands.

"Now then, we'll have to keep moving," Sly continued, "it won't be long before someone shows up to inspect the camera, use controlled fire and stealth shots to take down any guards, if we can, we have to maintain stealth."

With that acknowledged, the raccoon pulled out his cane and headed in the opposite direction of where Neyla and Borg had left, in search of a computer with good enough intelligence, and in search for the treasure.

* * *

Feeling the setting sun across his eyelids, Freddy was beginning to awaken from the nap that was providing positive progress, yet he could not help but feel strange, as if the floor under him was... moving. He had recently slept onto uncomfortable or unsual spots within the junkyard he use to call home, but this was highly unusual, even to him.

He opened an eye, spotting the sun, and the haze that gave it an illusion of a red color, it was actually quite beautiful. But there was something that struck him as odd, the sun was moving away.

"Where's the sun going?..." He asked, lifting his head to look around. What was more confusing was that the mountain cove, which was hiding the ship, was going away as well.

"Where's the mountain going?..."

He looked further around, noticing that he himself was being carried through the woods, on his back!

"Where am I going?!..."

He glanced underneath himself, spotting a colony of ants marching and carrying him away. It was then he realized that these were the same ants which he had collected earlier. He turned his head to see where they were taking him, and spotted a large hole in the ground, leading into shadows.

Panic struck him, it seemed obvious that the ants were angry with him, and they were going take their horrible revenge on him. He struggled, trying to break free of the ants' hold of him, but they overpowered him, restrained his arms and legs, preventing him from making a move.

He kicked, he panicked, he did whatever he could, but no matter what he tried, he was still being pulled toward the hole. Finally, his head was just over the small pit, and no matter how much he kicked or screamed, he was slowly pulled into the shadows of the hole, where he vanished underneath the ants of Howlers' Island.

**

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**

**Anyway, any questions? Comments? Etc.?**


	20. Chapter 20

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

* * *

**Special Thanks to Jammin Jabala for allowing me access to use his OC: Julius Black...**

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

* * *

After separating with the rest of Blue Team to "divide and conquer" as Bentley had put it, Neyla and Borg prowled silently down the white tiled hallway, both on the watch of any signs of guards or other security that could inflict a hazard to the operation. Neither of them spoke, both not having a actually conversation to begin with. The whole walk down the hallway was rather awkward for the two operatives, they had seen each other several times and recently talked once, it just seemed too difficult to really speak with the android about anything. She knew she probably did not have a subject of interest to the machine.

Out of stray confidence, she turned her head over to the android, "Um... Borg?" He turned his attention to her, alert to hear a remark or question for the white tigress. "How have things been on board the ship?"

"Quite pleasant, actually," Borg replied, sounding rather joyed, "I have found a place of employment aboard the _Gallantry_ and am having much progress in assisting Mr. Cooper and his companions."

"That's cool. Also, I've been wondering," she began, "You're the ship's medical surgeon, yet back on the ship you claimed to be the Professor's second assistant..."

"Yes, go on..."

"Exactly _who_ was this scientist?-Is it someone I or anyone among the crew know?"

"Well... I'm not allowed to reveal that information to outsiders of Howlers'," the android told her. Neyla frowned.

"Why do you always say that?" She asked, "I mean, you might be a walking computer but you obviously show a greater will over any other machine I've witnessed. Can't you ignore your programming at least one time? Isn't there something _you_ want?"

"Why yes, and yes of course," Borg replied. His answer actually caught her off guard. "I am not a complete slave to my primary programming, or to my restricted actions programming, there are things that I want in life, and I can set aside my programming and tell you who my creator is, which is why I will reveal the identification of my creator."

She lifted her gaze to the android with small but high hopes, "You can?"

"Of course I can, and I will..." he told her, trailing off for a second, and then finished, "...soon."

She looked away, grinning at the android's astonishing sense of humor. So perhaps he was not going to tell her "yet," but somehow, she could sense something quite familiar in him. It seemed rather so strange and she had not noticed it until now, Borg was beginning to remind her of...

The robot stopped dead in his tracks, signalling Neyla to hide against the wall as he looked around the corner of the hallway, spotting the entrance to the System of Control, their objective to subjugate the entire complex facility. However, there were two other androids, each armed with plasma rifles, guarding the door. It did not bother them all that much, it was only one small obstacle to leap over, and they would be at the end of the race in no time.

* * *

Simultaneously to their visual engage with the guarded entrance of their objective, Sly lead the rest of Blue Team further into the laboratory. With a motion detector held in Penelope's hands, she kept a look out for every sign of movement around them, cautious of any pursuers that they may come to engage deeper into the factory. It was quite difficult for the gadget to detect an androids within the facility, the device was made to track down constant vibrations, such as one heartbeat, and given the fact that androids did not have organic hearts, detecting them nearby was tricky.

The stroll through the hallway was quiet and boring, and it made things hard to fight the urge to whistle to pass the time, for Murray, it was just to hard to resist. But miraculously, he, like the rest of the anxious pirate commandos, managed to keep quiet. However, as the Sergeant had informed them once, quiet was good when you were the one trying to remain in stealth, otherwise, the enemy will hear you coming and try to kill you.

With that information, they began to relax a little, putting their en guard at all times routine at ease. But as they arrived at the door, open it, and waited as it slid fully open, they fell dead silent. They had entered the cargo shipping bay, where an untold number of crates and boxes were seen every where, some in stacks while others were sitting alone. There was a second floor over the first, more crates piled up, and most of all, more android guards, all of which were armed with plasma weapons. And what was more unfortunate was now that they had entered a room without precautions, it had triggered the attention of the hostile machines.

They spotted the group of intruders, aimed their weapons, and fired. Over a dozen bolts of plasma flew in their direction, leaving them without any other choice but to engage. Blue Team ran out of the hallway and further into the room, breaking formation to avoid being shot down, and took cover behind several crates. With some protecting behind the shielding boxes, they returned fire. Black stepped into the open and let loose with his chain-gun, firing twenty bullets per second, as he aimed for the first floor androids.

While the crocodile fired the heavy weapon, almost going deaf from the loud bursts, the pursuing machines were blown apart due to the armor piercing rounds and fell to the floor in a small pile of scrap metal. Despite how effective his weapon proved, there were still hundreds of droids approaching them, the battle had only begun.

* * *

**Anyway, Review please. Any questions? Comments? Etc.?...**


	21. Chapter 21

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

* * *

**Special Thanks to Jammin Jabala for allowing me access to use his OC: Julius Black...**

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

* * *

Armor piercing bullets and plasma bolts flew past each other as the androids and pirate commandos carried out the shootout. As a result of progress to their training, the pirates were untouchable to the hot red plasma that lunged at them, as they returned fire with fifteen rounds per second. All that experience and combat simulations on the ship and in nearby forest on Cache Isle had certainly paid off, and they were beginning to believe it was pointless.

The droids, on the other hand, were either knocked to the floor or blown into pieces. Their maneuver was uncut and without practice or proper training, even if it was programmed with the tactics and movements of previous warriors from history, it would never compare or fully reenact the correct combat maneuver.

The conflict between the two sides went on, Black's finger never left the trigger of the chain-gun, as he fired in every direction that machines stood in. It was actually fun to shoot down those metallic scum with an over large and destructive weapon. He wished that Borg was among them, in his cross-hair, so he could "accidentally" commit a friendly fire and shoot him down, therefore, there would be one less person in his way to take down Cooper.

Standing in a line of fire on the left side of the cargo shipping bay, Adams and Marcus were confronting a group of machines, each armed with plasma rifles, whom stood their grounds and fired bolts of red plasma. While the bolts flew in his direction, Adams kept to the Sergeant's advice and shot using _controlled bursts_, which was only one shot per squeeze of the trigger and was not so effective to a group of hostiles. With a stroke of luck, his single shot pierced a robot into its chest, like a punch, it threw the machine off its feet.

On the other hand, Marcus' conc-assault rifle was on _automatic fire_ mode, which easily diminished ammunition capacity. The black panther simply leaped out from behind the crates and fired down the androids, spraying at least fifteen bullets per minute, as over half of the pursuers were taken down. With that, he quickly hid back behind the crates, next to Adams.

Fitz hid behind his own crate, on the right side of the cargo bay, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. He loaded both SMGs and watched the shadows appear, and when they loomed across the floor, he leaped out and let loose with both automatic firearms. The androids never knew what hit them. After which, two more robots appeared armed with large, metallic shields, and they looked as if they could deflect bullets.

But the coyote wised up, spotted an angle with the right trajectory, the corner between the wall and the ceiling, and fired. A borage of bullets flew over the pursuing androids, bounced off the corner of the wall, and shot them in the back. As a result, they all fell to the ground, and Fitz, with his slight victory over the gear-heads, spat on the metal corpses.

With that, he swiftly returned behind the crate, where Sly, Murray and Penelope, too, held cover from the array of plasma bolts. The coyote chuckled, his SMGs pointed in the air, "This is the most fun Fitz had since we've been here," he remarked, and turned back to firing over the crates.

Penelope turned to the raccoon, "we can't stay here." She exclaimed, "The more time we waste here, the more we're putting the operation at risk. Night's getting closer and Bentley and Wilson are still out there."

As the status quo of the operation was being consulted, Black continued to shoot down the androids, piles of scrap metal littered the ground as the machines fell under fire of the chain-gun. However, it did not last forever, because a sudden cease came to the crocodile's weapon, pointing out that he was out of ammo, and the droids began to advance. With that, he discarded his empty firearm and pulled out his back up conc-assault rifle, as he retreated behind a stack of boxes.

He was not the only one, though, while ignoring the advice of using controlled bursts, Marcus' assault rifle emptied fast, and without another magazine to load it with, he ducked back behind the boxes for cover. He ditched the firearm, pulled out a grenade, and tossed it, "Fire in the hole!" He called, covering his ears.

With that, the grenade exploded in a five meter blast radius, taking out a large group of androids, but many more guarding weapons easily took their place.

Sly noticed this and looked back to the mouse, "You're right, this just isn't gonna cut it. Any certain ideas?"

Penelope looked around and nodded, pointing to a strange device, which looked an awful lot like an hour glass of some type. It was made with titanium supports and Plexiglas to contain the proton energy within, the electricity inside seemed to fly all around inside the container like an angry bee, trying to get out of its small prison. Forgot hour glass, it looked more like a battery.

"That's an electromagnetic pulse charge," she told him, "it's just the thing that could create a small, radio explosion that's wide and effective enough to take out all the robots in the cargo bay. It'll fry their programming chips and leave the rest of us unharmed."

"Sounds like an excellent magic eraser," he replied, "how do we do it?"

"We need to destroy it in the middle of the room, and the real question is how to do that with the androids still shooting at us?"

"Not a problem, Penelope," Murray exclaimed, standing up from his cover and ran over to pick up the EMP charge, "Hey Fitz, go long!" He called, and tossed the charge towards the androids. The coyote easily swiped out a pistol, aimed, and fired at the device, having luck on his side, it was a direct and perfect bull's eye.

As a result, the explosion emitted a loud frequency that nearly shattered their eardrums, but for the androids, they all reacted in a strange way and fell to the ground. They all twitched with static and became still on the floor.

With the conflict over, they all sighed in relief, just in time to receive a message over their wrist comm. link, "Sly, you read?" Asked Neyla.

"Yeah, loud and clear," the raccoon replied, "what's up?"

"We were successful. Borg is in the System and we have control of the facility."

"That would have been useful... a few _minutes_ before now," he replied, a little annoyed with the delay, "anyway, tell Borg to clear an entrance for Bentley and Wilson once they've arrived, and then direct us to the treasure."

"Copy that."

After explaining the next part of the operation to the white tigress, Sly switched off his wrist comm. and turned to the rest of Blue Team, "Okay everyone, we're in the clear now. Let's split up and complete this operation. Penelope, Murray and I will get to a computer and find out the intelligence. Everyone else, break and find that treasure."

With that, the four pirate commandos took off in one direction, reloading their weapons and arming themselves with back up firearms, as they disappeared behind a door. Sly and the rest headed in the other direction to find that computer.

**

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**

**Review please, or else!**


	22. Chapter 22

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

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**Special Thanks to Jammin Jabala for allowing me access to use his OC: Julius Black...**

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

* * *

Simultaneous to their time of engagement with the androids in the cargo shipping bay, two more droids stood at the slide doors of projectile proof steel, guarding the System of Control from any and all intruders. They were to destroy any sentient intruders whom would attempt to break in and target the security control reactor, cyberspace intruders were never once a problem, for the supreme Artificial Intelligence, Noah, could easily thwart computer hackers. However, she was no fool to only have that end covered, even non-machines would try to contaminate the system.

Out of the regular routine guard shifts, an unexpected knock came to the steel door, one unnatural to even to surprise both machines. The first machine opened a small porthole to spot the knocker responsible, only to find the faceplate of another fellow android. Out of a small glitch of curiosity, it ordered its counterpart to open the entrance for the apparently confused machine. The second droid complied and pushed the large access terminal, which activated the doors to slide open.

Suddenly, a borage of bullet piercing rounds flew quickly through the air and pelted both machines in their torso. The first dropped to the floor, deactivated from the surprise assault, and the remaining android was attacked via hand combat. A boot swiped across its metallic cheek and punctured its bullet covered chest, it made its attempt to redeem itself physically, before the barrel of a pistol touched between its round eyes. Without a further second, the droid's eye lights died out as it fell to the floor, now in the same condition as its other mechanical comrade.

After the fall of the two droids, Neyla lowered her submachinegun as she and Borg strode into the room, she tossed the android head, which had been removed from one of the other two guarding machines, aside onto the floor as they both got a glimpse of the security control reactor. Out of all the technology she had seen her lifetime, and her clone's lifetime, this was one of the most astonishing, yet somewhat familiar.

Borg approached the reactor, placing a mechanical hand upon its metallic surface, "Ah... Noah, AI01," he said, as if reminiscing out loud.

"This is Noah?" The white tigress asked, observing the machine.

"Ah yes, she is the most beautifully intelligent computer I have come to acknowledge," the android replied, reaching for the cord on the back of his head. He pulled out the cord and held it towards the console, but before he plugged it in he turned to Neyla, "Now, I will be awhile in my subjugation of the System of Control, so I must ask you to remain patient."

"That won't be a problem," she replied, giving him a confident and trustworthy smile, "I'm not going anywhere."

Borg gave her a quick nodded and turned to the reactor, inserted it into the console, and, from what Neyla could see, suddenly stood dead in front of her. It was all so immediate she almost slapped her palm over her mouth in shock. Of course, almost everyone was more experienced with computers and technology than she was, so she needed to stay calm and just allow the technological specialists do their stuff.

As thirty minutes went by, Neyla seated herself on a nearby office chair, considering it bored her just to watch Borg stand there listlessly, she began to think about Wilson. She could not understand him lately, ever since he had signed them both up to sail on the voyage with the Cooper Gang and the crew of the _Gallantry_ he had been more concerned with his duties that they both have not had any time alone with each other. Sure they had time alone in India when they watched over the Team Van, but they never took the opportunity to talk, she merely read a book of interest while he tended to the arsenal. But the point of it was that all along the treasure hunt they hardly had any "quality" time, and with that, she was a little frustrated.

Without warning, the android's head lifted and spun around to face her, his eyes, instead of their light blue, were a bright yellow color, "System access granted," he said, but instead of his regular high sophisticated English accent, it was a female voice, "Artificial Intelligence unit twenty-one is now in within the security program. All unidentified personal: no longer branded hostile. All units are to stand down and return to their regular routines."

She was taken off guard at the moment, before Borg's eyes returned to their blue color, "It is done," he announced, "I am now, under the watchful concern of Noah, in control of nearly the entire complex facility. She and I have reached a conclusion and covenant."

Neyla smiled, at least they were much closer to getting this operation over with. She raised her arm and tapped into the wrist comm., "Sly you read?"

"Yeah, loud and clear," the raccoon replied, "what's up?"

"We were successful. Borg is in the System and we have control of the facility."

"That would have been useful... a few _minutes_ before now," he replied, sounding annoyed, "anyway, tell Borg to clear an entrance for Bentley and Wilson once they've arrived, and then direct us to the treasure."

"Copy that." Neyla switched of her wrist comm. and turned to the android, "You get all of that, Borg?"

"Yes, indeed I have," he exclaimed, "I am working on it now, and things will certainly go as I arrange."

"Good to hear that," replied the white tigress, unaware as a stalking, spider-like machine crept silently behind her. "After this op is over, we'll certainly have something to remember it, won't we?"

"Oh, I am sure that when this operation is over, there will be some victory to celebrate our achievement."

Suddenly, a pair of cold, robotic hands grabbed her forearms and shoved her against the wall. Taken off guard by the maneuver, Neyla lifted her legs, walked up the wall, flipped back, and leaped away from the pursuer. She turned to study the attacker, it looked like a giant, robotic spider with six appendages. Each limb had four fingers and two thumbs, and all of its six eyes were locked on to her. She reached for her SMG but found that the mechanical creature had relieved her of all weapons.

It charged at her again, she leaped into the air and landed right on top of it. The android spider tried to shake off the prey that was attempting to ride it like a horse. She struggled and wrapped her arms around the creature's head, and with her advanced strength, she ripped the head from its socket and tossed it to the ground. Little by little, the rest of the spider, without its source of command, fell to the ground, dead.

With the machine vanquished, Neyla began to ponder on a confusing detail. Borg, or the AI program, had just ordered all units to stand down not too long ago, and just now this machine had attacked her. Perhaps the spider droid was given a specific assignment, one that did not involve it with the other androids. But what?

Without warning, a sharp, syringe needle poked into her left shoulder and injected some type of drug into her. She would have spun around to steal a glance at the injector but found her reflexes become slow suddenly, as the drug began to crawl through her veins. Her entire left arm was completely numb and limp by her side as the rest of her body grew heavy and sluggish, already beginning to lose her ability to stay standing. She tilted and fell off her feet, just before another pair of mechanical arms caught her. The whole room began to spin and revolve around her, making her unbelievable dizzy, and the only thing she could see was the faceplate of Borg. She suddenly felt betrayed, but her senses dulled and faded as her eyelids slid closed.

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**.**


	23. Chapter 23

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

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**Special Thanks to Jammin Jabala for allowing me access to use his OC: Julius Black...**

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

**_

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_**

While she helplessly sank into a deep slumber of tranquility, now within the merciful possession of Borg, another soul, however, was just awakening from his tranquilized state. After receiving two soporific injections on the same day, Sawyer felt a little sick. His head was still in a fog and would not stop pounding, his limbs were heavy from the numbness that had rested within his body most of the time, and from his stomach to his throat, he felt as if he was about to vomit. The chemicals in both of the darts that had knocked him out cold were not exactly good of use together, he swore he could almost taste what remained of it on his tongue, and it tasted terrible.

The distraction of the sickening taste soon faded away as he began to sense the rest of his surroundings. Sawyer found that his wrists had been tied together and were lying on top of his left leg, he felt a long fabric underneath him, carrying him to an unknown place, and he could feel a piece of cloth had been tied around his head, covering his mouth to prevent him from speaking. It would appear that whoever restrained him had little trust in him, _Smart people_, he thought.

He opened his eyes, only to meet with the darkening blue sky, and it was at that moment that fear struck him with a knife and was beginning to twist as it laughed and mocked him. It was dark!- wait, no it was not. He could see the sun still peeking upon the island as it sunk slowly behind the rest of the world, abandoning him, leaving him all alone to suffer once again through his nightmare. He panicked and began to struggle, trying every attempt to remove the restraints and chase after the sun, but he could not prevail.

His recent struggles and cries past the cloth over his mouth had gathered the attention of the pirate commando monkey who carried one end of the stretcher. Vasquez watched the Grey wolf shake, toss and turn from his restrained position, obviously spooked by something in the sky. He looked up, only spotting the dark blanket that was the night's sky, nothing he had not seen before.

"Hey Sarge!" He called, the cougar and Bentley turned to him, "The kid's wak'n up!"

"Just sit 'em down somewhere flat and remember, we're still on the move." The Sergeant told him.

Vasquez just struggled as he and Rogers rested the stretcher and young man on the ground, turned their attention away from him, and sat down on a rock to catch a short break.

The Sergeant turned back to the turtle, who was observing the kennels through his Binocs. "What about it, Benny? Do we have a clear or rocky path?"

"Well, I see no guards, which is a little unusual," he reported, "it looks like a two mile distance; a thirty minute walk, I think..."

"But we don't have thirty minutes, the sun sets in two minutes now," Wilson told him, "we can't get there in time."

"If we're lucky, this so-called bio-weapon has a remote activate system in the facility, and if Sly and Blue Team were successful, it's probably been deactivated."

While they spoke separately from Red Team, Pierce, Rogers and Vasquez, the young wolf watched as the sun, little by little, said its final goodbye and disappeared, leaving a blue-purple sky in its trail while the black sheet followed. Unable to stay still for another second, Sawyer rolled off the stretcher and across the flat ground, before tumbling down hill into the woods.

"Sarge, the kid's escaping!" Pierce shouted, bringing everyone to full alert.

"Rogers-"

"I got 'em," the pitbull jumped to his feet, grabbing his assault rifle just before he chased after the fleeing wolf.

Sawyer got to his feet and sprinted through the open woods, tearing apart his wrist restrains and ripping off his mouth cover along the way. He figured if he started after it, he could catch the sun in time to avoid the inevitable. With the night polluting the sky with darkness, whereas only the moon could lighten up the island, he could hear the beast inside him begin to stir, he could feel it beginning to awaken up from its daily slumber...to begin its nighttime hunt.

* * *

Meanwhile, Sly, Murray, and Penelope, after separating with the rest of Blue Team, wandered through the factory for the main office, which they believed the Professor of the entire complex facility does most of his work. He had a computer, that they knew of, which held all of his recent and current projects, and it was most likely it could tell them about the operations of this facility, its relations with the Klaww Gang, and the bio-weapon in mystery.

Finally, they found themselves in, what appeared to be, the office of operations. It looked like a common office with its green carpeting, waiting room chairs, and a desk litered with papers, files, folders, and other pieces of trash, along with the laptop resting in front of the master's chair, just in front of the name tag.

Penelope approached the desk and picked up the name tag, and while Murray and Sly looked around to observe the office, she read the name tag aloud. "Dr. Arnold... Reinvar?" She sounded out as she glanced at the others in confusion, "Never heard of him."

"Reinvar?" The raccoon repeated, "Oh great? We're in a mad scientist's lair."

"You know this guy?"

"Yeah, he's a wacko," he described, "he created a virus and nearly unleashed it upon the entire globe, it almost killed all of the cops... including Carmelita."

"So... he created a virus? A bio-weapon?" Penelope asked, anxious.

"Yeah, he was also an expert cloner."

"That would explain the clones you saw earlier," she stopped as a wave of curiosity washed over her about something, "And Neyla, she said she was a clone, was it the Doctor who cloned her?"

"Yeah, and it lead to a new beginning for her," Sly replied, silently reminiscing, but it all fell to concern. "I wish Borg had told us sooner about this, the Doc had some pretty dangerous toys before, and here, I'm not sure I even wanna know."

"Well, we're about to find out," Penelope remarked, taking a seat in front of the laptop as she began to type into it, "if his last bio-weapon was a disease, then what has he been leaving here for all this time?- I wonder."

* * *

Sawyer could no longer run away, there was no escape or hiding place he could turn to, and now his time was at its limit. He was face-to-face with the moon, its illuminating glow shined upon the island and on his form, and unfortunately awakening the beast.

He yelled in shrieking fear and pain as the transformation began, whereas the beast would take over and he would be set aside. He felt his muscles begin to expand, his body growing to firmly fit his newly increased strength. He fell to his hands and knees as his nails grew long and razor sharp, his teeth became larger inside his mouth, and his fur darkened, making him almost completely chameleon to the darkness of the night. And his eyes, his blue, frightened eyes, changed and shifted into a predatory shade of yellow.

* * *

After a minute of typing in the laptop for answers, Penelope finally found what she was looking, a file on the biological weapons program currently in motion. As she read through the file her anxiety quickly changed into a frightened expression. "Oh my stars..."

"What?- what is it?" Sly asked, anxious.

"Sly... I found the bio-weapons file, and... and it turns out it's nothing like we though it would be... It's no disease," she told him, slowly as she began to breathe heavily in fear, "It's beyond that, beyond anything we thought could be possible. The Professor had used science to bring something out of Folklore and into real life. The ultimate bio-weapon..."

* * *

Finally, after the struggle, the transformation was complete. Johnathan Sawyer was gone, replaced with a new predator of the night that struck fear into its core. With the full moon, the Beast, once the young, innocent boy, lifted its head into the sky and howled into the heavens. Giving the reason for the island's name; Howlers' Island.

* * *

"Penelope," Sly told the shivering white mouse, placing a gentle, warm hand on her shoulder to tell her to keep herself together, "just relax and tell us exactly what we're up against."

She slowly turned to him and the hippo, and underneath her breath, she muttered, "... ... ...werewolves..."

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**Anyway, any questions? Comments? Etc.?**


	24. Chapter 24

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

* * *

**Special Thanks to Jammin Jabala for allowing me access to use his OC: Julius Black...**

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

* * *

Wandering through the woods in search of the missing boy, David Rogers was morally crept out by the quick change of scenery that had took place at night. All that could be seen of the dead trees that made up the woods were their silhouettes, it was dark, even with the moon's glow lightened upon the island, and a small mist began to hover over the ground, making him more alert as to where he stepped. The mist provided a bad strategy when it was used against you, it was an excellent place to hide explosive mines, and one wrong step could be your last.

He had to focus, he needed to keep watch and find Sawyer. The boy was more spooked than anyone he knew, and recalling Adams mention that when he woke up, he pulled a gun on the ship's medic, Borg. If that were true, then he would need to be extra careful, he was in the wolf's territory, which meant he could sneak up behind him from anywhere by surprise.

Without warning, a sudden howl to the moon struck a shiver into his spine, causing him to instantly raise his weapon. If there were any hostile creatures in these woods, they were probably hunting by now, and if he was not careful, he could end up as the meal. A scurry through the bushes caught his attention, he spun around, assault rifle pointed, as he started towards the bush, ready to blast his stalker off the island. He slowly approached it, leaned forward, raised his weapon, and fired.

After shooting a few rounds of the magazine, he brushed past the bushes and found...only a dead rabbit. He chuckled, lowering his gun, it was only a small, harmless rabbit that had been curiously stalking him, and at first, he felt a slight glimpse of pity for the little creature, _almost_. As he turned away from the poor, dead animal, taking one final glimpse before resuming his search, he turned his head, only to feel a large mouth filled with razor sharp teeth stop him, now crunching into his neck.

As the mouth tightened its hold on his neck, Rogers found himself paralyzed. His arms fell limply to his sides as his conc-rifle slipped out of his hand. The only thing he could do, at the moment, was spot a large, wolf-like creature, its teeth crunching deeper into his neck. he could feel its fangs sink deep into his throat, he was surprised that he could still breathe, as it lifted its clawed hands, placing one on his shoulder and the other on his head.

With the dog was stunned in place, completely helpless in the beast's hold, he could not even scream or cry for help as his very head was ripped off, completely separated from his neck. Now that the prey had been taken down, the predator began to feed upon its trophy. But the pitbull was only an appetiser, it was still hungry, and it was going to hunt down the others.

* * *

Meanwhile, within the prime Artificial Intelligence's point of view, NAI01 "Noah," it was time to release the subjects into the testing facility. As the Professor had instructed, a group of clone breded prey were to be released first, so that they could find run and hide from their predators, and then the subjects will be unleashed into the woods to hunt them down. This breed of, thought-to-be, Folklore creatures was apart of the Biological Weapons Program: Dark Breed, thanks to a formula used to enhance a individual body and instincts, creating super-soldiers. After the hunt was completed and when morning came again, the subjects were to be recaptured and tested for anything that could be an error or hazard to the program, and so far, nothing was without perfection to the Professor's program, and just in time too, for his associates would be arriving tonight to pick up the formula.

Tonight, however, the routine of the test would be "shifted" slightly. According to the returned android unit, AAI21, there were outsiders within the complex facility's laboratory, and he had suggested that they could be "new prey" to the program.

He had also asked for access to the top restricted vaults of the factory, and of course he was aware she would deny, he had advised that he would be completing his primary programming _very_ soon. With that information, Noah agreed to allow him access to all restricted areas _after_ he had completed his programmed assignment. And if they were lucky, he would be finished just in time to present the data to the associates.

Other than the unit's programming nearing completion, Noah returned her attention to the information of the intruding outsiders. after a year of testing the prototype super-soldiers, watching them hunt down inferior prey, it was time to see how much progress these predators can do against new, more challenging prey. Her sights turned to the kennel cameras, just in time to watch the last subject complete his transformation, and to where only the only population was the werewolves in their cages, and the androids who watched over them.

The electric ray shield doors opened, and the synthetic prey, a handful of cloned pigs, sheep, and other necessary animals, was released, after five minutes, it was time to release the subjects, or at least half of them. The androids, each individual machine, stood by the cages and opened them, as the the subjects all leaped out of their incarceration and sprinted for the outside, not taking any interest in the mechanical and uneatable robots. Almost all of the fifty werewolves made it outside before the ray shield doors closed, but only twelve of them were kept inside.

Behind them, the doors to the laboratory opened, providing an entrance for them, and seeing the opportunity, they prowled inside. perhaps there was other prey within the factory.

* * *

"Are you serious?" Sly asked in disbelief, a little worried that Penelope might be crazy, "Werewolves? Sounds like something out of a horror movie than a biological weapon, don't you think?"

"Sly, I'm _dead_serious..." the white mouse assured him, pointing to a paragraph in the laptop's computer file, "According to the file: The Werewolf formula is a manufactured, synthetic virus designed to enhance the abilities of a regular canine personal. This includes enhanced muscle, instincts and senses, increase of speed and agility, and an increase of hostile and aggression.

"It's a soldier enhancement formula," Penelope told Sly and Murray, "not a deadly disease this time, but an actual monster creating chemical. Doctor Reinvar brought the legacy of werewolves to life by using science."

The raccoon looked into her eyes, seeing no insanity but pure serious and concern. She was not crazy, or playing a practical joke on them, "None of us are safe, are we?"

She shook her head.

"Then we've gotta find the others and think of something," he exclaimed, looking up, "Borg, you there?"

"Indeed, I am, Mr. Cooper," replied the familiar English accent of the ever so helpful android.

"We need you to make a rendezvous point with us and the others," the Master Thief told him, "Direct the rest of Blue Team a path to regroup with us. And keep a watch for Bentley and Wilson's team, too."

"Of course, sir."

With that, Sly and the hippo headed out of the office, Penelope collected the laptop into her satchel, in case it were to come into further use in the future, and ran to catch up with them.

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**Read and Review, please.**


	25. Chapter 25

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

* * *

**Special Thanks to Jammin Jabala for allowing me access to use his OC: Julius Black...**

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

* * *

Prowling through the dark woods of Howlers' Island on a search for the missing escort operative, Rogers, the rest of Red Team had donned and activated their night seeing ability equipment, their flashlight attachments and night vision goggles. The dark in any other island would been nothing, even a tropical beauty when stargazing, but the dark here had eclipsed that description. "Spooky" was not exactly the right word to describe it, it was more terrifying, shiver racing, and more unpleasant than so.

_Best not to think of it_, Bentley thought, as he, Wilson, Pierce and Vasquez wandered through the last known spot that the missing pitbull, as well as the wolf boy, could be. He looked through the spectacles of the night vision goggles, the green image of the trees, bushes and grass, there was no sign of Sawyer or Rogers, but something caught his eye, a suspicious puddle in the dirt.

The Sergeant bent down beside the puddle and dipped a dagger into it, lifting it up to find it was not being disintegrated by acid, meaning it was no puddle from the previous acid rain. He brought the dagger closer to his face and melt it, obviously it was not acid, but surprisingly... it was blood. Someone had been injured.

Perhaps it might have been from Sawyer, it was possible he could have rolled along a sharp stone and cut himself a wound on a limb. However, seeing it to be a thin stream of blood, it was no small injury, or even an injury at all. Bentley and the Sergeant looked all around, Pierce and Vasquez held their conc-assault rifles ready for conflict, and they started to follow the trail.

The trail of blood lead them to a bush, and to a distrubing sight, there was a pair of legs sticking out from under the leaves. It questioned the turtle as to who the unlucky victim must have been, but he quickly recognized those combat marching boots. They had belonged to their comrade missing in action, and it appears as if they had found him.

"Rogers?..." Wilson called, keeping his weapon pointed as he crept towards the body. He brushed past the bushes, only to find a large, wolf-like creature, nibbling off the headless neck of the corpse meal that used to be the pitbull. The beast looked up to him with yellow eyes that glowed into the dark, the eyes of a vicious predator whom had just found its prey, and with their eyes shortly looked, the beast barked at him.

With that, the Sergeant leaped back from the bushes. He and Bentley watched as the monster poked its head out over the bush, catching all of their attention. The cougar raised his assault rifle and squeezed the trigger, firing a loud train of bullet towards the beast, just before it leaped into the trees, howling once more before it disappeared into the dark.

Bentley did not need any translation to know what that howl signaled, considering it was a overly large wolf, and wolves always travel in packs, it was calling the rest of its comrades to its location. The turtle could already tell that one of those monstrosities was going to be a big problem, and if there was a pack of them, they were in trouble.

"We've gotta get to the kennels, and fast!" The turtle told Red Team.

"But don't the kennels have more of these things?- Isn't that a worse place to be?" Pierce asked, slightly spooked.

"It's a lot more dangerous here, out into the open, than the kennels, which are would surely lead to use to rendezvous with the others." Bentley pointed out.

"He's right, we need to get to those kennels, asap," the Sergeant seconded, motioning them forward, "Let's move, won't be long before the woods are prowling with hostiles."

* * *

Meanwhile, on deck of the hidden _Gallantry_, the Panda King held a lantern in his left hand as he patrolled the interior of the cove. He stuck poles with unlit lanterns onto the floorboard, as well as into the soil all around the cave. He lit a single finger on fire and carried the flame to each individual lantern at a time, filling the entire hideout of their ship with light.

Now that he was left in charge of the ship while the rest of the Cooper Gang were undergoing an operation, he felt slightly relieved that he would have his own solitude away from the honorable, but still quite annoying Americans. Although, since he was responsible for the crew, he needed to keep watch over them to assure that they will not damage the ship or harm one another. For the moment, the giant panda would only have to check on the incapacitated ocelot, Jenkins, as well as see to the rest of the ship, and then he could cook up a late dinner for the crew. After wards, then he could finally have his own solitary to meditate.

Suddenly, an out of nowhere, victorous howl flew past his hearing, making him leaped to face the entrance of the cave, a handful of fire live and hot in his palm. He looked into the entrance of the cave, looking for the slightest movement of something unidentified that could be dangerous. Nothing.

He lowered his hand and slowly turned away, but not lowering his guard. He had pirates to check on and dinner to cook, however, he was going to direct the crew to arm themselves, to keep a loaded weapon with them at all times until further notice. He was not taking any risks if there was any hostile targets in the area, and he had to take responsibly of the _Gallantry_.

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**Anyway, Review please. Any questions? Comments? Etc.?...**


	26. Chapter 26

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

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**Special Thanks to Jammin Jabala for allowing me access to use his OC: Julius Black...**

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

* * *

Meanwhile, the pirate commandos of Blue Team rode the elevator to the bottom floor, where they were sure the vault containing the treasure must have been. While the car traveled downwards, Adams removed the empty magazine from his conc-assault rifle and popped in a new one, just as Fitz installed two fresh clips into his submachineguns. Marcus, now left with only his secondary weapon, wrapped the sling of the flamethrower over his shoulder, and fueled it with half a canister of gasoline. Lastly, Black reloaded his conc-rifle with another magazine, and then readied himself for a fight.

As the car reached the last floor, Adams activated their cross-hair laser pointers, Marcus lit the flame of his thrower, and Black pointed both weapons forward, as the doors slid open. The basement floor looked a lot more different than what they currently saw of the rest of the laboratory. The walls were without white tiles, as was the floor. Instead, the floor was actually steel drainage grates, the walls were an unpainted gray metal, and there were three separate hallways. The crocodile was the first to stroll out, glancing over to the left and to the right before he continued down the forward hall, followed by the others.

They strolled with caution, a red dot from Adams' weapons flew all throughout the hallway as he moved beside the crocodile. Behind Black was Marcus, his flamethrower pointing to the left and right. Covering the rear of their formation, Fitz held both SMGs firmly in his hands as he walked sideways, keeping an eye on their behind while remaining close with the team.

"Borg, you there?" Adams asked, looking up to the ceiling for a Intercom to answer.

"Indeed I am," replied the android's voice.

"We at the basement, can you lead us to the treasure vault?"

"Of course, but I'm afraid you may have to cancel your attempt to retrieve the treasure," the machine exclaimed, "Captain Cooper has directed me to inform you to rendezvous with him and his associates, they are on their way, as we speak, to join you."

"Cancel?" Marcus repeated, the black panther accidentally spat out his cigar, which fell beneath the grates, "We're _this_close to nabbing the loot and you want us to 'cancel' that? No freak'n way!"

"I strongly advise you follow Captain Cooper's request and join with him, _now_," Borg sounded slightly more serious and demanding than before, but none of them, other than Black, appeared to notice.

"Okay Borg, we'll meet up with 'em, but first, could you direct us this treasure vault so we can place a pinpoint marker?" The Doberman asked, sticking a piece of gum in his mouth and beginning to chew it.

"Why yes, of course. Continue down this hall and take a right turn," the android led them through the multiple hallways, leading them through many left and right turns, until they finally arrived upon another severely secured door. It was round and sealed tight, appeared to be made of a strong layer of steel. It looked as if it would take a well coordinated demolition pack to break it down, or maybe just the activation from the System of Control.

"Hmm...?" Fitz murmured, passing the three other commandos as he placed a finger on his chin to think, "This seal door looks quite sturdy to handle a simple grenade. It may take a well placed detonator in the center to blow it in, but I can't be sure."

"Just to let you know, I will be currently unavailable for a while, so you are on your own for now," Borg told them, "but I advise that you make haste and rejoin with Captain Cooper and his associates immediately."

"Alright Borg, we're on it..." Adams replied.

"Splendid!"

With that, the android's voice vanished from the Intercom, and when he was sure he could no longer hear him, the Doberman added, "...After we're done with the treasure."

Everyone, except for Black, chuckled deviously at the under-breath response. And with that, Fitz got to work. The coyote removed his satchel and placed it next to the seal door, there he began and pulled a small, square-like terminal and placed it aside as he picked out a tooth-paste shaped tube, filled with a highly explosive substance. He removed the lid and began to squirt the paste-like substance along the sides of the round door.

While the demolition specialist squirted and spread the substance, Marcus reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigars. After just recently losing his last one, he pulled out a single death stick and took it with his lips. He slipped the pack back into his pockets and pulled out his Wesley James lighter, lit the match on its tip, and carried the flame to the tip of his cigar. He had acquired the bad habit years ago, and he had even purchased his own lighter. It was his valued possession, and he would _never_ let it go.

The black panther killed the time by wiping his thumb against the smooth texture of the lighter, his flamethrower hanging by a sling on his shoulder, while Fitz continued with the door. After applying the explosive around the sides, he replaced the tube into the satchel and picked up the terminal, which would help in triggering the explosive. But before he could attach it to the seal door, a sound from the elevator, signalling the doors had opened to allow entry for someone, interrupting him. He froze, and everyone else lifted their conc-rifles towards each hallway.

"What the hell could that be?" Marcus asked, lifting his flamethrower.

"We'd better speed this up," Adams suggested, "Black, you take a look that way," he pointed down a hallway, "I'll go the other way. Marcus, stay with Fitz."

"Whatever," the black panther replied, as the crocodile and Doberman separated.

Adams kept his conc-rifle raised as he slowly strode down the hallway, keeping a watchful eye out for any danger. During this entire voyage from some unlimited treasure, he had already seen a lot of strange and bizarre creatures, the Doom Sea hydra tongue was one he would never soon forget. It puzzled him on what could be on this island that appeared to have Borg and Sawyer so spooked by each other.

He stopped at he corner of the hallway and looked around it, spotting nothing in view, yet, he could not help but feel as if he was being... _stalked_. Suddenly, he heard a silent, uncomfortably breathing down his neck. He spun around, weapon pointed, only to find nothing is view. The Doberman looked both behind him and in front of him, there was no sign of any hostile, but he could still hear the breathing.

Without warning, a drop of liquid, as if from a leak, fell onto the grate in front of him. Curiously, he glanced up, spotting his stalker, a large, dark furred wolf creature with yellow eyes and huge teeth, and it looked at him as if he was food. As it barked and dropped to him, Adams fell back and fired his conc-assault rifle.

The sound of fifteen rounds per second echoed before the vault door, where Fitz and Marcus turned their heads down his hall.

"Ricky-chet?" The coyote called, standing away from the incomplete detonator. The black panther held his flamethrower into gunner's position, as they both cautiously approached the entrance of the hallway. Suddenly, they a figure, Adams, firing his weapon as he backed out of the other hallway and ran their way.

He yelled in a frightened voice, "Run for it, you bastards!" He cursed, sprinting past them. At first, they were both curious at watch spooked him, until another silhouette appeared at the end of the hallway. They saw the werewolf, although hardly believing it at first, as it barked and charged at them.

Marcus wasted no time, pushed past Fitz and squeezed the trigger on his weapon, as a large blossom of dragon's fire roared back, spraying all around the path with fire. "Back off you bitch!" Marcus cursed at it. The coyote ran away to join with Adams, followed by the black panther, and the werewolf retreated from the flames. It looked around for an alternative past the flames, and so, it found one.

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**Review please, or else!**


	27. Chapter 27

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

* * *

**Special Thanks to Jammin Jabala for allowing me access to use his OC: Julius Black...**

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

* * *

Solitary within the _Gallantry_'s storage room, in meditating position "Grasshopper," the Guru sat cross-legged in the middle of a ring of lit candles. He inhaled the scented air through his left nostril and exhaled through his right, his eyes closed, as he silenced all five senses: sight, hearing, smell, taste and touch. With all senses no longer distracting him, he triggered his sixth and began to see beyond his regular sight, seeing all around him without any use of his possible deceiving eyes. This was really his only "escape" from the physical world, in the realm of the Dreamtime, he was in paradise.

It was this state of mind that allowed him to surf past himself and everything else to spectate everything below. In this state, he could not only see the entire island, he could also look back to his memories, and with that ability, he revisited the sacred mountains of his Dreamtime encampment ground. He remembered when he had begun his own training, and afterward, he recalled Murray's training. It always made him smile at the memory of when he was knocking the hippo on the head as he tried to teach him the Grasshopper meditation, and Murray, with that same look on his face, showing he had no clue what he was doing, motivated him not to give up on him.

In this alternative consciousness, the Guru scanned over the surface of Howlers' Island, observing every detail out of curiosity for his former student, as well as the other militia members of the crew, to see their status quo of the operation. However, he could see something that brought a disturbance to the peace that he loved, over a dozen creatures, lurking into the shadows of the dead woods, some were searching and stalking the escort team, while another half of them were closing in on...the ship.

With that information, the koala snapped his eyes open from his state of mind, he looked all around the storage where he had not actually left to spectate the world before him. He knew something was coming, and he needed to put the whole ship on alert before it was too late. The Panda King, being the one in charge, was whom he need to find, if there was anyone he had seen previously that could lead a stronghold over the ship, and since the others were away, the giant panda was the only one to turn to. Still, he could not help but feel as if this danger may be almost more than they can handle, the proper assistance is required.

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They were not the only ones who would be needing help. Back in the basement, Fitz, Adams and Marcus, still on the intention of eluding the werewolf, hurriedly ran through the hallway, only a few more turns before they reached the elevator that would conclude their escape. They were all so desperate to elude the beast that not only had they forgotten about Black, who was still back there, they were carelessly pushing past each other.

Fitz, being the fastest runner, was obviously in front of the other two, the Doberman accidentally bumped the black panther, causing him to lose his hold over his Wesley James lighter, which fell between the grates. Marcus foolishly stopped to retrieve it, as the other two commandos left him behind. Although the memory of one of the Sergeant's lessons, the one that detailed _not _to stop for anything useless, which in this case included the lighter. Never bring anything that you are not prepared to lose, and do not stop in the middle of something important just to recover it. But in his opinion, he would just go with his usual response to the Quartermaster's lessons, "Screw the Sarge and his lessons."

He placed his flamethrower beside him and got down on both knees and looked underneath the grates, spotting the silver lighter on the bottom of the concrete. Luckily, it had not fallen into the drain, but it still looked out of arm's reach. However, that did not stop him from descending his arm into the grates. His hand slowly closed in on that small piece of steel and snatched it off the concrete, victoriously reclaiming it as he stood to his feet.

Now with the lighter returned to his possession, Marcus spat out his old cigar and lit a new one in his mouth, blowing a ring of smoke. Never had he found a substitute that would give him such a thrill, well... other than woman, of course. Suddenly, a beep appeared on his motion tracker, immediately lifting his guard to alert, as he swiped out a pistol. He lifted his wrist, examining the motion tracker, if that werewolf had gotten past the flames he left it, he was more than ready for it, however, according to the MT, the bitch was right on top of him.

He looked upwards to the ceiling fan, not spotting a ball of fur in sight. This confused the black panther, the MT told him that the werewolf was right next to him, one way or another. He glanced to both ends of the hallway and up to the ceiling fan again, not a wolf in sight. But there was the possibility he was reading the motion tracker wrong, the monster could be underneath him for all he knew. Unfortunately, he learned that too late, as a pair of clawed fingers reached for the grate underneath his feet and pulled it in, resulting in a fall into the drains.

Fortunately, he managed to grab the edges of the grate opening, working every muscle to keep his hold to prevent the werewolf from dragging him down underneath the grates, where it would surely be a bloody mess. He cursed and cried for help, trying to pull himself back up, but the beast was too stubborn to let its catch go. It snarled and barked at him as it yanked on his leg, while he refused to be pulled under and made into dogmeat.

Suddenly, the silent sound of footsteps snatched his attention, Marcus turned his head slightly to find Black, armed with only a lone conc-assault rifle, strolling to observe the sight.

"Black! Help me out!" The black panther begged, as he continued to struggle out of the overly large and vicious canine's grip.

The crocodile observed the scene, Marcus half buried underneath the grate, being yanked and pulled as he hung by a thread for his life. His acknowledgment turned to the beast below, hearing the curses and cries mixed with the barks and snarling. He cared for nothing of the black panther, to him he was nothing more than a expendable sailor, it was the werewolf he was more concerned about. The creature was more of a threat to him recovering the treasure, and he needed to destroy it.

"What are you waiting for, you ass-!?" Marcus cried, as he felt the beast tug at his leg again.

Black saw an opportunity to destroy the creature, but it would require sacrificing the panther, but he was willing to ably. He strode on and passed the soldier in distress, and bent down beside him to pick up the rested down flamethrower. With it in one hand, he aimed the lit weapon straight in front of Marcus' face.

"Wait, what are you doing?" He asked, beginning to panic, "What are you do'n you bastard?!"

Unfortunately, his answer was given, as the crocodile triggered the flamethrower, tossing a bouquet of fire onto the panther's struggling body, lighting him on fire. With the pain of the flames consuming him, he finally lost his hold on the edge and was dragged under the grates.

Black turned and walked away slowly, listening to the large growls of the werewolf and the shrieking pain cries of the black panther, as the fire consumed the canisters of gasoline, it emitted an explosion that took them both, leaving nothing left of them behind as he discarded the flamethrower, and hurried to join the two militia troops at the elevator.

With the explosion, now changed into a sage of fire burning both corpses beneath the grates, only one thing was left behind intact, a small, silver object... Marcus' Wesley James lighter.

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**Review please.**


	28. Chapter 28

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

* * *

**Special Thanks to Jammin Jabala for allowing me access to use his OC: Julius Black...**

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

**_

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_**

The dark cloud of Howlers had polluted their entire sky, leaving no trace of light to be found, only the glow of the full moon supplied any light upon the damned island, awakening the beasts within the cursed ones. Or so any myth, folklore, or tale of terror would have been remarked from a professional story teller. Due to the magnetic pull of the moon, it had triggered the werewolf formula within the subjects' bodies and minds, shape shifting them into the monsters they were cursed to be. But for another subject, one whom was not apart of the werewolf breeding program, had been awoken from her tranquilized slumber, and was slowly regaining her hold on her body.

Neyla took a few minutes to get a better feel of her surroundings, as she continued to breathe the conditioned air around her. She could see a overwhelming light past her eyelids, too strong and concentrated to be the moon, more familiar to a observation light used by surgeons to perform surgical operations, or by scientists to dissect specimens. She did not like the idea of being held down and cut open with a scalpel, while some mad scientist with nothing better to do opened her up to see what made her tick.

The white tigress opened her eyes and squinted them immediately, due to the nearly blinding light that loomed over her. She tried to shield herself from the light but found both her arms in shackles that were welded above her head to the table she was restrained to. Observing her surroundings, she was slightly surprised by the change of clothing she was now wearing, the plain white, two-piece bathing suit, one that was worn by clones who hibernated in their cloning tubes, one that she had slept in before too.

She looked all around the research laboratory that made up her surroundings, spotting six, she counted, cloning tubes, where half of them held synthetic subjects floating within the thick-watery fluid within the glass encasement. On the other side, she saw a two counter tops covered with test tubes and other glass containers filled with multiple colored liquids. Next to the collection of chemicals was a large glass jar filled with a multicolored substance, which she could easily recognize as the synthetic blood to provide the clones, as they were pumped into the cloning tubes. She also spotted a row of Plexiglas encasements, each one holding a suit of well-polished silver armor and masks with only two circles, symbolizing eyes.

This laboratory room was all too familiar, like the very lab she had been reborn in by the use of the Reincarnated Cloning program by the insane scientist, Dr. Arnold Reinvar. No, it was nothing _like_ the hyena's cloning production, it _was_ the same laboratory that she had been cloned in, where she had been pulled out of death to begin a new life. It all made perfect sense, what with the clones he breed, the armor and masks he built to control them, and the chemicals that created the virus that nearly killed everyone in the world.

She shuddered at the memory of that lunatic attaching wires into her head and trying to control her, he had planned to make her into the most powerful weapon that the world had ever seen, and she, with all her will, had kept resisting and rebelling from his authority, which only convinced him to try more effective and harsh theories to break her.

Neyla observed the rest of the laboratory, the security cameras that watched every movement, the control panels and terminals that most likely controlled everything in the entire complex facility, and surprisingly the lone android who was only a few meters from her, its back turned as it appeared to mind its own business with the controls. She was a little curious about the droid, it looked like the same model as Borg, only it had six arms instead of two, a hovering device underneath its torso replaced its legs, and the round head had a horn-shape end behind it, which held the cord to a plug attached to the main computer.

"Borg?" She murmured, why did her voice sound weak? "Borg, is that you?"

The android rotated to face her, and then hovered over to answer her question, "Ah Neyla, nice of you to return to me." With that same English accent, she definitely knew it was him.

The white tigress gave him a semi-glare of a look, as if she was angry with him, "Why did you do it?"

"I'm sorry?" The droid replied, as if not understanding what she meant.

"Why did you tranquilize me?" She asked, trying to sit up. But more than the restraints kept her from succeeding, for when she lifted her head off of the table, a wave of dizziness washed over, pushing her back down, as she dropped her head.

Borg eased her down, two mechanical palms held and positioning her head to face upwards to the lights, "Now, now... take it easy. The soporific drug you have been injected with was more than effective in incapacitating you, any physical movement will denied for a while."

"Why?!" She breathed, "Why didn't you tell us you were working for Reinvar?"

"Because that was information that I needed to keep secret, otherwise Mr. Cooper and his associates would not have trusted me to act as their medic," the machine exclaimed, looking away for a second, "Ah, the things we keep secret in order to protect others and ourselves."

"And me? Why am I here?- And what do you want with me?"

"Because, my dear Neyla, you hold computerized data within your memory that is key to my primary programming," replied the droid, "I knew that straight from the beginning when I first met you, here, at the complex facility."

"We've met before?" She said, confused, "But how come I don't remember any of that?"

"Ah, you see, when you were being awfully stubborn in submitting to the Professor's will, he decided to send you away by turning you in to Interpol. Before he prepped you for the trip to Paris, we erased your memory of this installation and of me, so that you would not report and reveal it to the outside world, and so that my objective would be made a step easier. Holding you down always resulted in me needing immediate repairs to my form."

"Then what _is_ your primary program, and what does it have to do with me?"

"I already told you, you hold computerized data within your memory, and I needed to acquire it," exclaimed the droid, as he pulled out an silver device, an electronic headpiece that was made to wrap around her head. It had a single red light in the middle of it, made to be positioned in the center of her forehead, as he approached the device to her face.

"Borg, wait..." Neyla told him, shuddering away from the device, "If there's something you wanna know, I'll tell anything you want to know, _everything_ you want to know..."

The machine did not hesitate or stop as he attached the headpiece to her forehead, "I'm afraid that will do no good, the data I require is buried deep within your brain's locked memories, which of course not even _you_ can access. But with the new form of technology, I should be able to search your mind and download the data.

"Never fear," exclaimed the android, "the process is painless, although it may take some time to find the data and download it all."

"But Borg, you don't have to do this."

"I know, but I am doing it for two things; to complete my objective and rid myself of my primary programming..." he told her, his voice growing steadily deeper, "...plus for something on my personal towards you."

Without another second thought, the device clamped and sealed around Neyla's forehead. From the ceiling, a circular, round device descended over her, a large, red eye opened from it. It leveled itself to get a good look at her, but aimed for the red light on her head, and in a second, a red, thin ray of light flashed from the eye and into the device.

The white tigress was stunned from her head to the tip of her toes, she could feel the light slither like a snake into her mind, observing and studying every thought. She could do nothing against the light, she feared it would have a severe effect on. Would it leave her mind shattered to destroy herself, thereby killing her, or would it brainwash her and leave her to be the weapon Reinvar wanted her to be? Either way, all she believed, for the time being, was that her fate was sealed and decided for herself.

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**Anyway, any questions? Comments? Etc.?**


	29. Chapter 29

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

* * *

**Special Thanks to Jammin Jabala for allowing me access to use his OC: Julius Black...**

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

* * *

Now that they were alert and aware of the terrifying dangers that were now lurking and hunting outside, Sly, Murray and Penelope made their way past the office and cargo shipping bay and strolled down the hall to meet up with the rest of Blue Team. The raccoon lead the way, a motion tracker on his wrists, seeing as he had the first look into this laboratory he almost knew exactly where they were going. The hippopotamus stood behind him next to the white mouse, steadily staying on his toes and keeping his fists raised, he had had many physical engagements with hundreds of enemies and won, but fighting a monster straight out of a folklore was probably going to be a challenge. Penelope held the commandeered laptop close and firm underneath her armpit, she knew there were still things about this place that puzzled her, and she was going to use it to figure out the equation.

Along the way, Sly was uneasy about all of this, about learning of the position he and his gang was in. The idea and information regarding them having to now battle off werewolves would have only made even Bentley laugh, he could barely believe it as something to be taken seriously himself, but Penelope was distinguished and she was never one to make jokes during an operation, which meant he should not make smart-alic comments against it. He was mostly worried about his turtle friend, he was outside with those things running around, he knew he was not the most athletic of the team and it was going to be difficult for him to elude the beasts, but all he could do was pray. He and Penelope, silently to themselves, both prayed to the Lord that Bentley would make it and lived further past this ordeal.

Abruptly, the MT on the raccoon's wrist began to signal nearby movement around the corner of the other awaiting hallway. He motioned his two comrades against the wall to hide their shadows off the floor and from the approaching individuals whom were closing in on their location. Sly and Murray carefully slid their backs along the wall, hoping that when they faced the possible hostiles they would have the element of surprise on their side. They stopped at the corner, nodded to each other, and leaped out in front of the hallway to come face-to-face with... Blue Team.

Fitz, Adams and Black all held their weapons at the raccoon and hippo, they were unaware of how lucky there were at the moment, otherwise they both would have been dead in a matter of seconds. The paranoid militia marines lowered their guns in relief, the Doberman and coyote looked especially spooked, as if they had just seen a ghost, and the crocodile seemed more stiff and rigid, as if he had been the soul survivor of a war, or so he could describe as Penelope appeared between him and Murray.

"Man, you scared a the crap outta us-" Adams told them, releasing one hand from the barrel of his conc-rifle before holding it in one hand as he began to breathe heavily.

"You three okay?- you all look like you've seen a ghost," the mouse exclaimed, adjusting her glasses.

"You could say something like that, what we just saw back in the basement was a lot worse than a specter," Fitz replied, removing his hat as he leaned against the wall to catch his breath.

"What'd you see?" The hippo asked.

"About the biggest, hairiest mutt I've dun gone seen in my history," exclaimed the coyote. "We was lucky to get away from it in the elevator."

_Werewolves? In here?_ Sly thought to himself, as he suddenly came more stiffer and on guard. How had those monstrosities gotten loose into the laboratory, was it not the natural routine from them to be released outside. There was a positive and a negative side to this, if some of the creatures were inside the complex facility, then it means there must be less a number of threats outside to put Bentley in jeopardy. The negative side, unfortunately, was that there was an unknown number of predators now in the factory, hunting them down too.

He glanced at the three commandos, noticing one out of the four troopers he had sent to find the treasure was missing, "Hey, where's Marcus?"

"Hell, I dunno!" The Doberman replied, "I've been running as fast as I could since I saw that... that- _thing_!"

"Yeah, we was waiting by the elevator for him to show up, but instead we spotted him showing up," remarked the coyote, as he pointed to Black.

"Well...?" Murray asked, overlooking the crocodile, "Do you know what happened to him?"

He was suspiciously silent for a moment, as if he was mourning a loss, or perhaps guilty of a committed felony, "The panther... is dead," he told them, "the beast killed him before I could come to his aid, but on the other hand, I was fortunate to kill it."

"Poor guy," Penelope murmured underneath his breath, as she gave a small prayer to the dead marine.

"Alright, this is bad." The raccoon said, "We need a plan..."

"We've got to find a place to take cover and contact the ship," exclaimed Penelope, "maybe they can spare some firepower and help, and hopefully we can get to the bottom of this and put a stop to it."

"Why can't we just do that now? The sooner the better, right?" Adams suggested.

"Wrong," she corrected him, pointing to a security camera on the ceiling, "we're being watched. Now let's go."

Although the discussion was concluded, the rest of the troops and thieves caught up to understand with what the white mouse was implying. It would explain why these creatures were inside a building that should be well secured, but open a path to another mystery of why. Someone in control of the complex facility was someone they cannot trust, and maybe it may seem hard to believe after this time, but it was quite possible to be someone _other_ than the Noah AI left in charge the last time.

As they set off to find a small area to rest and plan their next move, Black, passed his hardly guilt, now held a inch of frustration. This change of plans obviously meant the treasure would have to wait, and his greed was growing unsteadily hostile. However, on the raccoon's belt, the Seeker's Scroll caught his eye, the very map that had brought them here, the map which could easily lead him to the treasure vault again, where the coyote's completed explosive was still set attached to the vault door. There was still an opportunity to get the Scroll, get the treasure, and with the aid of the hounds which were deliberately hunting them, he could do away with his enemies without lifting a finger. Perhaps this so-called "crisis" may actually lead him to his victory.

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**Read and Review, please.**


	30. Chapter 30

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

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**Special Thanks to Jammin Jabala for allowing me access to use his OC: Julius Black...**

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

* * *

Alone within the _Gallantry_'s kitchen, the Panda King lit a flame in the palm of his hand as he stood in front of the oven. He blew the flame inside the machine as the fire took place underneath the frying pan of unbaked bread. With the fire and soon-to-be bread in position, he closed the door and turned back to the roasted turkey he had on the counter. He held a knife and cut an opening into the dead bird, and began to fill it with stuffing. While the bread was being baked and the turkey was stuffed, he chomped vegetables into a pot and made a stew, while he tasted it to assure that it was just right.

Its scent and taste displayed a magnificent pattern of calm and tranquility, but he was not in peace, his mind was on other things besides food. The feeling of dozens of dark pursuers approaching the location never left, and even though knowing the crew was armed and on guard at all times, it did not help. There was something about the island that frightened even him, that early strange howl that had come out of nowhere was enough to haunt him in his sleep, and he feared seeing the real beasts that could be lurking upon their location. The howl never left in disturbing him.

Making him jump, the sound of the door cracking open, he spun around, his fists on fire, as he found the Guru enter the room, his walking stick in hand. The elderly koala strolled into the kitchen, his Moonstone glowing its bright violet, as he noticed he shared the same feeling about the island and the possible hostile inhabitants.

"Guru..." the giant panda said, the flames in his hands died out, "Is there something troubling you?"

The koala was silent for a moment, and then he finally answered him, {Many dark creatures approach us, surround us, and are planning to attack. There is a great number of them} he told the King, {not succeeding our own but they have proved to be too dangerous to underestimate.}

"Is there a specific number of them?" asked the giant panda. The Guru shook his head.

{I do not know how many approach us, but I feel as if our companions are in as much danger as we are. We must ready for battle.}

The Panda King clenched his fist in front of his face, a ball of fire took life on his palm, "Then we shall."

* * *

With the two elders declaring an immediate defensive formation of the ship, Bentley pushed his wheels as fast and hard as he could while Pierce, Vasquez and the Sergeant unleashed fire upon the pack of hidden werewolves that they were all certain, without question, was chasing after them. The entire two mile hike to the kennels had been a running battlefield with hopes to elude a nightmare, they spotted many multiple monsters after them, running on foot and climbing on trees, as they hunted them down. Each of those creatures was just as eager to get the first kill as the rest of them.

They stopped in front of the ray shield doors that prevented anything from coming in or out of the kennels, their only obstacle to escape the pack of hunters on their trail.

"Benny, I hope you've got a trick up your sleeve to handle this door," the Sergeant told the turtle, as the cougar turned with Vasquez and Pierce to face the deep, dark woods, where they searched for the eyes that were after them.

Bentley rolled over to a panel next to the ray shield doors, and began to type into the terminal. However, every key he pressed only resulted in the words "Access Denied" appearing on the computer screen, the system was well protected. He would need an alternative to access its harddrive.

Among the three militia marines who stood guard, the monkey was the most nervous. Vasquez kept watch for the slightest movement, literally, and when he spotted a shake in the bushes, he yelled and squeezed the trigger, spraying a few rounds to the bush, and all around in front of him. He did not care if he had gotten a bull's eye on the werewolves or if he was missing completely, he just wanted those hounds to go away.

"Vasquez, controlled bursts!" Wilson reminded him, but the monkey completely ignored him and resumed fire. Suddenly, he spotted one of those creatures run through the trees on two legs, he aimed his conc-assault rifle and fired, hearing a doggish whine sound from the monster. Hopefully it might slow it down, maybe just a little bit, but there were still more of them around and close. He could hear them barking and howling.

Bentley opened the lid underneath the terminal and began to pull a few wires, although it resulted in the screen going black, he knew what he was doing. He detached a blue wire and a yellow wire and spliced them together, which emitted a spark. The screen came back to life and he quickly returned the lid to its proper place and began to rapidly typing into the keyboard. "I'm in! Just give me a little time to hack the ray shields!"

"Just hurry, Benny!" The Sergeant called back, he and Pierce fired upon the deceiving beasts that appeared in the open and hid in the shadows for cover.

Vasquez fired in every direction towards the woods, shooting at every silhouette that ran from one tree to another. He spotted the nearest werewolf and fired his assault rifle, and as the creature retreated back into the woods, the monkey kept shooting, and screaming, as he ran to catch it and finish the job.

"Vasquez! Wait!" Pierce called, but the husky could only watch as the marine disappeared into the woods.

Finally, after two minutes of hacking, the ever-so intelligent turtle pressed the last key, which instantly switched off the shields, allowing them entry to the kennels. "C'mon, let's go!"

"What about Vasquez?!"

In a distance from within the dark woods, out of their sight of the shadows, they heard a bloodshed scream, followed by the silence.

"It's too late," the Sergeant told him, grabbing the husky by his arm and pulled him, as Pierce resumed motion towards the doorway. And as they leaped inside the safety, the werewolves turned away from their latest kill and sprinted to achieve more.

Once inside, Pierce slammed the emergency close button, causing a red light on the ceiling to flash while half a large door from the top of the doorway began to slowly slide down. Bentley was lucky to make it past the doorway in his wheelchair, only to end up tripping and falling on his front. He propped himself up with his scrawny arms, when suddenly a pair of furry, clawed paws grabbed at his chair's wheels and began to pull him back.

The Sergeant leaped to the ground and grabbed the turtle by the hand, positioning himself to retrieve him from the werewolf's clutches. He pulled as hard as he could, while the husky dropped to his belly and fired outside to scare the beasts off, but the creatures were not afraid of the inferior firearms that they were protecting themselves with.

Wilson knew he could not win at this tug of war, he could feel his grip slipping off of the turtle's gloved hand. Bentley had the same opinion, the werewolf held a firm grip on his wheelchair, while the cougar kept a firm hold on his hand. Although he did not want to leave it behind, something had to go. With his other hand he reached for his wheelchair's seat belt and unclipped it, as he slid out of his seat. His chair was gone but the turtle was safe, and when the doors closed on them, it sealed them from danger.

The Sergeant and Pierce sat propted up against a cage, as the cougar gave a silent prayer to Rogers and Vasquez for being unable to make it. They were both gone, two lives, as far as he knew, had just been taken away from the cruel world. He wished them both luck in the Lord's judgment.

Bentley propped himself up with his arms, a shiver ran up his shell as he heard a howl from outside. He looked at his legs, his paralyzed, unmoving legs, now that he had lost his wheelchair, one of his greatest inventions ever constructed, it was almost enough to break his heart. But there were other things at stake, like his own love, and his two best friends. He glanced at the door that lead to the laboratory, and he knew that he would find, not only his teammates, but also answers. He needed to know what this is all about.

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**Anyway, Review please. I'd love to hear all of your opinions...**


	31. Chapter 31

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

* * *

**Special Thanks to Jammin Jabala for allowing me access to use his OC: Julius Black...**

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

* * *

On the other hand, due to triggering the emergency door close, they had unwittingly activated another emergency protocol that issued Protocol: Lockout. Alert lights flashed yellow on the ceiling, while several doors began to slid shut. It was quite puzzling to the members of Blue Team, as they simply stood in one place, listening to the female voice on the Intercom: "Attention: Protocol Lockout initiated. All personal must evacuated immediately or take shelter within the security command center. Repeat: Protocol Lockout initiated. All personal must evacuate immediately or take shelter within the security command center."

"I'm guessing _that_ would be Noah?" Sly remarked, looking upwards to the Intercom.

"Yes," Penelope replied, "and it's also a warning stating we'd better find cover and fast or risk being out into the open with the werewolves around."

With that response, they immediately advanced in speed and began to sprint throughout the laboratory halls. There were two options to take, but considering they still had a job to do, and considering outside was just as dangerous as inside the complex facility, they were most certainly not going to evactuate. The other option seemed like the perfect place to construct a command post in this factory, there were cameras all over the place, meaning they would be able to see everything and think up a plan of action to live through this ordeal. So, with hast, they headed for the security command center, which according to the schematics Borg had given him, was just around the corner into the next hall.

They found the doorway, leading to the security command center, however, they arrived just in time as the door began to slowly slide shut. With the decided time limit, they sprinted down the hall, hurriedly to stop the door from locking them out. Adams, being one of the first to reach it, slammed his conc-assault rifle between the entrance and door to make enough time. "Hurry!" He told the others, holding the firearm in place. And when the last member of the Blues made it past the doorway, the Doberman withdrew his weapon and stepped back, as the door slid closed. Sealing them inside the safety of the center.

Now within the well fortified command room, with the three-layered steel doors and camera visuals, they all began to relax and sit down. Sly turned the nearest office chair and slumped within it, resting his cane next to him as he caught his breath in relief. Murray collapsed and dropped to the floor, his chest rising and falling as he rested his aching muscles, never had he ran in this sort of situation, where its either run or be killed, but perhaps he has been in his entire life, he just had not noticed it. Penelope was the only one who did not drop in exhaustion, she took a seat next to the raccoon and turned to the keyboard and television monitors, and she began to type into the system for a purpose.

The others, like Sly and Murray, took seats and positions all around the rest of the room. Adams, over by the desk, placed both his conc-rifle and his shotgun on the flat surface, as he unloaded the empty magazine of the rifle and installed a fresh one, as well as load the shotgun with some gauge shells. Fitz sat prompted against the wall next to him, and he loaded both submachine-guns and duel pistols with plenty of clips rounds. Black, however, sat beside the door, not even bothering to load his weapon. He was not going to let his guard down for even a second and that was that.

While the militia of pirate commandos went about their own business, loading and equipping themselves with weaponry, Penelope got to work with the security system, typing into the keyboard and bringing the screens to life. As predicted and desired, security cameras #1 through #32 came to life, showing her the hallways and critical areas of the entire complex facility. She spotted many separate rooms and, as feared, numerous werewolves, all prowling around the place in search of them.

Watching them crawl and sniff around, guarding the perimeter, but also hunting for prey, Sly took notice and stood up, surprised to see so many monsters. "Well, this is fine mess we've gotten ourselves in."

"Interesting," Penelope remarked, placing a finger on her chin as she observed the werewolf specimens, their movements, their reactions, their communications, and their response to one another. "Dr. Reinvar's choice on a superior predator species made into a weapon was actually an good idea."

"What?" Adams asked, shocked at what he overheard, "Are you saying you admire the Doc and his pets?"

"Of course not. Sure, he may be brilliant to be able to bring a the legacy of the werewolf to life, and sure they appear as the perfect predator," she went on, without really realizing the compliment she was providing, "but there's no such thing as perfect... everything has a weakness, we just need to find it."

"Okay..." Sly replied, scanning over the monitor screens, "Now what would a lunatic like Reinvar have to keep his pets under control?- and where would he keep it?"

"First thing's first," the white mouse said, "we'll have to reset the power generator in order to acquire better control over the facility. That way, we'll be able to pinpoint a rendezvous with Bentley and the others." She stood up from her chair and walked away from the computers, "Now Fitz, can you show me how to use one of those conc-rifles?"

"Sure," the coyote replied, unholstering the gun off his back, "come here, lemme show you how it's done."

While the militia marine explained and demonstrated how to use a firearm, Sly examined each screen, spotting rooms after rooms that were either empty or populated with werewolves. But on one television monitor, moving through a hallway between two cameras, he saw three familiar faces. Bentley, Wilson and Pierce had made it inside the laboratory, his turtle friend was tied to the cougar's back, armed with an assault rifle. The raccoon quickly eliminated the curiosity of what happened to his wheelchair, he was just grateful that he was still alive. His prayer had been answered.

"Alright, hold the barrel of the gun with your left hand," Fitz instructed her, as she followed the directions, "now just place yer finger over the trigger."

Penelope held the conc-rifle in the exact position the coyote told her to, in one's third opinion, she looked as if she was a paramilitary soldier, armed and ready for action. "And what about loading and unloading it?" She asked, tilting the firearm to get a view of the inserted magazine.

"Just flipped the switch next to the magazine," he explained, as she did so and pulled the magazine out, "and to reload, just set it in there and slap it in hard..." She complied as instructed, "and now you're ready to kick some butt."

"It's Bentley," Sly announced, picking up his cane, "he and the others are alive. They made it." While Penelope and Murray glanced at the camera screen, he stood up and headed for the door, "We move now."

"Now hold up there, Coop," Adams objected, facing the raccoon, "It's a lot safer in here than out there with those things running around."

"But we need to get to the others before those things do," Penelope told him, "if we can just get to the generator and reboot the system, and with Bentley's help, we can gain a better advantage in this situation."

"No way, man," the Doberman replied, "the Sarge with 'em, so we'd best just pinpoint our location and wait here until they finds us."

"Not likely, Adams... Those werewolves had enhanced instincts, and they're about as intelligent as we are," Penelope told him, "they'll probably do what you'd do in their position; they'll make observations, make a plan, and find a way inside. They're not just mindless animals, they're well trained, elite, and superior hunters and they _will_ find a way to accomplish the impossible. And if we stay here, we'll all as good as dead."

"If we go out that door, we're as good as dead either way," he pointed out, "but if the Sarge's right, then I'm sure Sly and his dumbluck will pull us all through. I'm in."

"Great, now get ready to move out, watch your fire and don't let your guard down for even a second. We're lost in the woods, with monsters hunting us down, and if we're lucky, we'll make it out of this," Sly concluded, catching a conc-assault rifle.

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**Review please, or else!**


	32. Chapter 32

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

* * *

**Special Thanks to Jammin Jabala for allowing me access to use his OC: Julius Black...**

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

**_

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_**

Now tied to the Sergeant's back like an everyday satchel, armed with a conc-assault rifle, Bentley felt a little ridiculous in this position. Sure, without his wheelchair he was obviously immobile, but it did not seem very necessary to have a pair of straps wrapped around his chest and the cougar's, thereby binding their backs to one another. However, what other choice did he have? He knew he would be more helpful and ready to fight if he was armed, though he was incapable of performing combat maneuvers, so when he was given the gun and asked to "watch their back," he made no complaints or comments against that plan of movement.

He did not bother saying a word about it, he had other things on his mind, such as the anxiety and concern of his friends, whom were in as much danger as he, Pierce, and Wilson were. If those creatures were outside, and given the "Lockout" code that had been initiated to seal everything inside, who was to say there was no chance of the complex facility being invested with monsters too? He was still spooked by the barks and howls of those prowling nightmares, it made him tighten his hold on the assault rifle.

"You holding back there, Benny?" The Sergeant asked, he could slightly feel the turtle shudder on his back. Pierce kept close and watched in every direction, as well as his motion tracker, for the slightest movement.

"Yeah... yeah, sure... I'm alright," he replied, wiping his forehead of sweat, "just a little worried is all."

As they cautiously walked down the hallway, Wilson could not blame him. The thought of monsters running around every on this forsaken island, along with the unexpected deaths of two crew members, had put him on guard. With that very thought, he filled his weapon, a flamethrower, to the tip of the lid with gasoline, ready to cook those creatures until their burst into flames. "I hear ya. Knowing there's bound to be more of those things around here disturbs me too. What do you think they were?"

"Although it sounds too supernatural to be logically possible, they looked like the legendary wolfman, or werewolves," Bentley told them, and even he had difficulties believing it so.

The Sergeant, although thinking it to be a pretty crazy and stupid guess of a monster, could only find himself unable to doubt but agree. It was quite often myths are used to suit theories, and sometimes you had to observe the pieces of the puzzle, but what other option was there on this prowling nightmares?

"How many do you think there are?" Pierce asked, as the husky glanced behind them.

"I don't know... I couldn't really see them in order to obtain an official of their numbers, so I'm afraid I'm gonna have to go with 'uncountable,'" replied the turtle.

"Don't worry you two, we'll get out of this. If there's anymore surprises, they'll be toast."

"It's not the werewolves I'm worried about, it's the others... What if they ran into those things too?"

"Have you tried to contact 'em?" Asked the Sergeant, leveling his flamethrower as he stopped. Simultaneously, Pierce stopped and leaned against the wall, looking both ways of the hallway for any eavesdroppers or stalkers, while Bentley tapped at the wrist comm. on his arm.

"Sly, you there?" He asked, his voice shaking slightly from nervousness. No answer except silence. "Sly?..."

After a long minute, as the husky and cougar stood guard of the area, a reply finally came, "Yeah, I read you... loud and clear," came the raccoon's voice.

"Sly!- praise the Lord, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm alright, and so is Murray and Penelope. Also, we have two spooked troopers with us, sound familiar to you, Wilson?"

"Yeah, they sound familiar..." The Sergeant replied, rolling his eyes but sighing in relief. "What about Neyla?- is she with you?"

"No, last time I saw her, she left with Borg, but the last time we heard from _him_, he was in control of the complex facility," Sly's voice sound slightly more serious to this situation, "Bentley, Jack, we think there's something going on, and Borg is apart of it."

'What's happening?" Asked Bentley.

"We don't know, we just recently learned that this biological weapons program is really the breeding of werewolves, which Penelope pointed out was some supersoldier enhancement formula. Everyone who was involved with the program was a beast at the night, which may explain why Johnny was spooked when we found him. Poor kid must have been through it too many times."

"And what about Borg, what makes him suspicious?"

"It's been half an hour since we last spoke to him," Penelope replied, "and when we were tried to talk to him, no reply. Either he's ignoring us or he's somewhere else, either way, I think he betrayed us, because he didn't even warn us that there were werewolves in the factory. Watch yourselves?"

"Don't worry," the Sergeant replied, raising his flamethrower, "I'll have something for 'em."

"First thing's first, we need a rendezvous plan," Bentley told Penelope.

"Don't worry, we already have one," the white mouse exclaimed. "We're gonna try for the power generator and reboot it, so that we can shut off this lockdown code and open a clear getaway path. We'll try to meet up with you near the generator reactor room."

"Roger, we'll see you there."

"And don't worry, Wilson," Sly said, "we won't leave Neyla behind. We'll find her and save her."

"Thanks Coop, see ya soon."

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Anyway, any questions? Comments? Etc.?


	33. Chapter 33

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

* * *

**Special Thanks to Jammin Jabala for allowing me access to use his OC: Julius Black...**

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

* * *

They had better hope their plan results with positive effect, because the entire complex facilitary was now infested with werewolves. Those predatory canines were prowling all around the factory, climbing onto every surface and smelling for the slightest scent of an outsider. They all knew there was prey inside, not the same, synthetic cloned animals they feed on before, but something new to taste. Those monsters appeared no different than a squad of elite soldiers, they were precise, coordinated, tactical, and given their predatory nature, they were more vicious. Or so they seemed from the observing camera screen, from Neyla's point of view.

The white tigress lied helplessly on the table, her muscles frozen, and with the display of red lights flashing into her forehead, thereby freezing her face, she could hardly turn her attention to the monitor screens. She could not twitch a single facial feature with the red light immobilizing her, her lips were as if glued close, and even though her eyes were locked into place, it did not stop her from spotting the android next to her. Borg's attention was directed to a monitor, which was showing him a cortex display of her brain.

Though she would never understand science, she could figure out how this brain probing process was proceeding. As she felt the red light slithering like a snake through her thoughts, she was placed into a subconscious realm, only it was no lightheaded halucination, it was her mind. She looked all around the corners of her mind, and looked down to her body, her naked form floating off the ground. She looked further around, spotting the intruder, the digital probe. It approached her, observing her floating conscious, and once it identified her, it turned away and went about its own business. And Neyla, to her own curiosity, began to follow it.

The probe led her into the locked section of her mind, in search of the computerized data in the core of her brain. Along the way, she grew bored of accompanying the mind invader and decided to go explore the restricted area of her brain, just to see if she could find anything she knew she could not remember. After hearing word from Borg that she had been memory wiped a year ago, which would explain the sudden deja'vu revelation of the laboratory, she wanted to know what happened back then. She wanted to know the reason she had been cloned back to life in the first place, and what it was buried deep within her mind that Reinvar and Borg were so interested to obtain.

In this subconscious trip down Memory Lane, she found herself waking up on the bottom surface of a cloning tube, now within a naked, newly cloned body, which was a perfect copy of her previous form. She slowly lifted her head, only to find a man, a hyena, dressed in a white labcoat, his hands behind his back, and a warm, friendly smile on her face. "Welcome, my dear..." He greeted, "to your second life on earth. I am Dr. Arnold Reinvar."

Neyla remembered this, it was the day she was re-created and met the Doc. It was rather confusing to her, that year ago, when she knew Reinvar all too well, but somehow have no memory of this, of even being introduced to him. She studied this rather odd, hyena scientist, just in time as AAI21-Borg appeared by his side.

"What do you think, unit Twenty-One?" He had asked the android, "Similar enough to match whom she was before?"

"Indeed, sir," Borg replied, "she looks exactly like her profile picture."

"Ah yes, but you will find a difference..." the Doctor told him, turning his attention to the cloned white tigress, "now then, Miss Neyla, feel free to stand."

With that unusual invitation, Neyla felt awkward in accept it, as she wobbly stood on both of her feet. It felt abnormally strange. She knew she had stood up before, walked, and even runned, but at the moment, it felt as if she was doing it for the first time. She had to concentrate, right foot then left, and in not too long time she was walking perfectly again.

The android approached her with a medical robe, Borg strolled around her and placed the robe on her shoulders, as she accepted it and slipped her arms through the sleeves. Once through, she quickly closed and tied both ends of each side together, adjusting her only pair of clothes to fit with comfort and without allowing any one in her presence to see much of her. She was not in any mood to show skin.

"Now then, Miss Neyla," the Doctor began again, "how are you feeling today?"

She tried to speak and was able to move her lips, but she could not exactly form words. Her only response to the question was a few mumbles. _And now I can't remember how to speak, too?_ She thought, as she made another attempt to answer the question.

"Come on, Miss Neyla," Reinvar told her, "take your time... try to talk slowly... Try saying your name."

With that selected task, she accepted it and began to mumble out more words she could not even understand herself, until she finall said something; "N.. nee... nee... Ney-la..."

"Very good!" The Doc replied, "Now say my name..."

"Ar... Ar-nold... Re-in-var," she mumbled.

In about three minutes of practice, she was finally capable of speaking in clear sentences again.

"Now then, any questions Miss Neyla?" Asked the Doctor.

"Yes, I do... where am I?- and how did I get here?"

"You, my dear, have been given life once again... by me," he told her, "we are at Station Four Echo, and you have been cloned."

Out of curiosity, Neyla lifted her arms and examined herself, now understanding why she had trouble controlling her body after waking up from death. So she had died before, and now had been reincarnated into the clone body of her former image. Perhaps fate had provided her with a second chance, or maybe it was something else. Everything had a price to be paid, especially the gift of life returned.

"So why me, then?" She asked, "Why bring _me_ back to life?- why clone me?"

"There are multiple reasons. One, because you are one of the first test subjects for the new process of immortality through cloning," he exclaimed, "and because you are more than just a clone of your former self, you have many... enhancements. You have an increase of speed, agility, flexability, and strength, you are perfect for the weapons program."

Neyla raised an eye brow, "Weapons program?"

"Ah yes, you did not believe I would just bring you back to life and that would be that, did you?" The Doctor asked, chuckling.

"Everything comes with a price, especially immortality..." Borg had added, placing a mechanical palm on her shoulder. She swatted it and backed away from the machine, only to have him grab her arm and pull her back. As she wrestled with the android, she was confused as to why this "enhanced strength" was not kicking in. Perhaps it needed to be switched on or something.

As she felt her angry begin to boil, she could feel some heat rise within her eyes as she glared at Borg, and without warning, a thin, red beam shot from her eyes and blasted the machine, sending him flying back into the wall.

She watched as the android fell to the floor in half-wreakage, as a result, an alert went off and, during the exact same time, a small dart pierced her in the shoulder. As the Doctor watched her helplessly slump to the floor, she was so confused with what had just happened. How had she suddenly have the ability to shoot lasers from her eyes?- it was not one of the enhancements Reinvar had mentioned. So, where did it come from?

Every since that day to today, her first day, she had never gotten the answer to that question. But seeing so many things within these now unlocked memories, she looked further into them. Perhaps the answer lies within.

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**To dazzlemebetch: About Freddy, the guy got carried away by super, intelligent ants into their hole, so that will remain a mystery until somebody notices that the possum is not around. Until then, his fate is most likely sealed. As for Dimitri, I didn't really want to show him a lot in this story, mostly because I've kinda shown him a lot in the previous UC stories and I've had about enough of him. But if you want, I can give him a few parts in further chapters.**

**Review please.**


	34. Chapter 34

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

* * *

**Special Thanks to Jammin Jabala for allowing me access to use his OC: Julius Black...**

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

* * *

While Blue Team was preparing to move out, loading their weapons, and organizing and equipping themselves with other useful gadgets, Murray curiously watched Sly slap a magazine into the conc-assault rifle. His attention turned away from the raccoon and observed as Penelope stored the obtained laptop into her satchel and pick up the same type of firearm. He picked up a random, laid-out pistol and studied it, he did not understand why anyone would favor guns. He saw Wilson use them, the crew use them, and now, even two friends he knew were even using them. What was it, exactly, that made this weapons so popular? He usually favored hand-to-hand combat brawls, and actually knew how effective it was, the use of firearms in many conflicts never really made a lot of sense to him.

He would understand it, the use of firearm weaponry, he had no likes or interests in guns, mostly because he did not like to be _shot_ at. Guns were too loud, they echo for miles, he could just knock out an enemy with one punch without drawing the attention of the entire town. He was more stealthier than these weapons, which he practically laughed at. Out of mocking curiosity, he gave the trigger of the weapon a squeeze, but in performing this action, he fired a loud, ear echoing bullet, which caused everyone else to jump, their own guns raised. The hippo glanced at the revolver and carefully replaced it on the desk, with the other death weapons. He figured he would stick to using his firsts in close encounters and just let the professional gunmen handle the heaters.

"Yeah, it's better just keep your mitts off things, especially the shiny stuff owned by soldiers," Fitz told him, as the coyote sheathed two duel pistols.

"You can't blame him," Sly began, "he travels with us, and touching shiny things is what we do for a living."

"Have you ever figured that the things you take are probably dangerous?" Adams asked, loading his shotgun as he stuck it back into his back holster.

"Of course, that's one of the reasons why we try to steal 'em. It's better off in our hands so we can dispose of it, instead of leaving a dangerous weapon in the hands of a mad man."

"Well, didn't work out so well tonight, did it?" The Doberman replied, grinning with his use of sarcasm.

"Wow, Wilson _was_right... You do have a smart mouth," remarked the raccoon, as Adams picked up his conc-rifle.

"Whatever," he replied, turning away to collect some more ammo.

With that, Sly turned his attention to Murray, whom was looking slightly uneasy. The small shiver of the wrist and single drop of sweat down his forehead was the main give-away, _that_and he knew the hippo well enough to know that they were both had the same feeling about fighting werewolves. Not the whole idea of horseplay after watching a movie about the subject, but actually having to engage vicious, blood-lusting Forklore monster made real.

"You okay, Murray?" He asked, the hippo forced a smile.

"Yeah, I'm just worried about Bentley," he replied.

"Don't worry about him, he's not wandering around this place alone, right now, we just have to get ourselves to that generator and reboot it so we can gain a better advantage of the situation. Hopefully, we'll find Bentley there too."

Now feeling better with that act of comforting, Murray's smile grew more truthful and wide. It was just the confidence he needed right now. He had never stopped worrying about Bentley ever since after the Clock-La event, when he was left in a wheelchair. Sure, the turtle had assured him that he is quite capable of handling himself, but the hippo would never forget what happened back then, and of his current state that was preventing him from performing many things he could no longer do.

Without warning, a random drop of liquid fell and splashed between their feet. Sly and Murray both glanced up to find, to their horror, the drooling mug of a werewolf, sticking out of a removed air vent lid. The creature growled and then barked at the two thieves, provoking a panic within the security control room. Taking notice to the problem and being the only to summon the courage, Fitz stepped between them, aimed his SMG, and fired a fifteen bullet per second spray through the vent shaft.

"Quick! Let's make like a herd and get!" The coyote remarked, as he scurried past them to try and pry the door open. Murray gently pushed him aside and, with a few grunts, he pried the door open victoriously. With that, while the beast returned and began to crawl out of the vent, everyone of Blue Team ran out of there, and once the last man was out, Murray, Fitz and Adams began to push the door closed. Unfortunately, two clawed hands slipped between the two slide doors and began to pry it open again, the creature poked its head out, barking on content.

Adams swiftly pulled out his shotgun, stood in front of the werewolf, and jammed the weapon's barrel into its mouth. "Chew on this!" He cursed at the beast, as his finger squeezed the trigger, and in an instant, the creature's head was nothing more than a punctured skull, and blood all over him and the two comrades.

"Nice job, Ricky-chet!" Fitz told the Doberman, as he began to wipe the blood off of his features, "I guess that's one less dog to deal with."

While the coyote patted him on the shoulder, Penelope pondered in deep thought. Considering one of these creatures was intelligent enough to crawl through the ventilation system in order to get to them, it proved that they had more to deal with. As if monsters were not enough, but they were actually just as smart as they were. This meant the means in order to survive was to be smarter and more strategic towards these creatures, or end up as food. This was truly a hunt; predator verses prey.

"We need to keep moving," she told the others, and immediately started down a hallway. Sly, at least knowing she did not even choose a educated guess that would direct them to the generator, knew there was trouble. These things were smart, they were organized, and they were everywhere, and probably alike Blue Team, they were working with a plan as a squad.

As he caught up with the white mouse, followed by the others, a observing camera glanced at the group and then turned back to look at the dead creature. One hard-trained and breded specimen had just been terminated, meaning the prey was the perfect test for them. The observing AI Noah realized that in order to create the perfect hunting predator, some may be killed in the process, however, if all of the prey was to be taken down, all of those whom had survived would be considered the ultimate predator. In the meantime, other business was to be attended to.

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**Read and Review, please.**


	35. Chapter 35

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

* * *

**Special Thanks to Jammin Jabala for allowing me access to use his OC: Julius Black...**

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

* * *

Back on the _Gallantry_, while both Red and Blue Teams had already made a rendezvous plan within the complex facility, the entire crew had been ordered to prepare for their own conflict with the dark, mysterious enemies that had been predicted to scout and assault their position. Many of the crew, which were multiple canine and primate species, had armed themselves with guns and blades of nearly all types. A total of sixteen pirates of the crew each donned armored vests and grabbed a concussion rifle, scurrying down the ramp of the ship and onto land, now forming two groups to guard the ship's ramp. All the while, the rest of the crew loaded their pistols and sharpened their knives and machetes, just in time as the giant panda in charge came to observe their progress.

The Panda King inspected each individual pirate dog on deck, and standing at the end of the cove entrance as he adjusted the slings of the rocket launch, so that it complied firmly and cooperatively on his back. Two crates of fireworks had been placed about beside him, as he tied two large packs of his usual Chinese rockets on his sash. With a single rocket of fireworks clenched in each fist, and fire in his eyes, he was ready to take on the approaching new enemies.

A few pirates took point at the edge of the ship, each placing a minigun turret loaded with 40-inch metal piercing rounds and a bipod installation on the edge, around the same time a dozen more sailors arrived on deck with flamethrowers. Torches were placed all around the _Gallantry_'s sides, a few motion trackers were switched on, displaying a screen that detected every movement, including themselves. With every available man, save for Jenkins, at their battle stations, they all fell silent, and awaiting the hostiles to approach.

Minutes flew by, taunting them all as they seemed like hours, as all the fire lit torches and throwers began to fade. The Panda King fixed the problem and summoned several flames in every direction. He looked as far as the limit of light could travel, yet he could not see the cove entrance, it was all drowned in shadows and darkness, too dark to spot anything beyond the light limit, which meant that this enemy had the element of surprise.

Suddenly, movement became detected on the first motion tracker, followed by the rest of the devices. As the constant beeping began to echo, the pirates all immediately came to their full guard and alert, each raising his own weapon, and pointing their cross-hairs towards the cove entrance. However, not a soul appeared into the light, and yet the motion trackers indicated that the hostiles were still moving, and that they were somewhere over the ship. The Panda King was confused, the enemy would have to be on top of them in order to not be seen, with that thought, he glanced upwards and cast the flame to the ceiling of the cove.

What he spotted, hanging with their claws binded to the ceiling, were dozens of dark furred, growling nightmares. They were werewolves, straight out of logic and storytellers' fiction, all from the same horrific tales that many people used to scare children with. Never had he seen real creatures such as these before. "Watch above!" King boomed, as the others turned their attention to the monsters hanging from the ceiling.

At the blow of their cover, the werewolves all released their holds on the ceiling and dropped down to the prey on the ship below. With their assault notified, the pirates all pointed their weapons at the falling creatures and fired. Although considering not too many of them were good shots, only three to five of those monsters had been shot and killed in the air, only the King's shots counted, as each Chinese rocket hit its target and exploded into victorious colors. Many were taken out, while the rest landed gracefully on the deck, where they executed their attack. Several pirates were swiped at and knocked into barrels and further crates, while the less fortunate, such as a single Rottweiler, were pinned to the ground and were immediately beheaded.

While all of the crew members easily backed away from the horror of their comrade's death, all except the Panda King, who stood his ground in front of the beast. The werewolf raised its head to the giant panda, its mouth covered in blood, and its eyes filled with hunger, and as it spotted this ever-so large creature of meat, its temptation was undeniable. The creature stood up on two feet and stepped over the dead dog, and started towards the much larger prey.

During their locked gazes, the barks and gunshots in the background were no longer important, nor were they even heard. Both the panda and the werewolf had become deaf from it all, while the monster saw prey in front of it, the panda saw an adversary. King tossed aside his fireworks and clenched his fists in flames, standing into fighting stance in front of the beast. He threw off his rocket launcher, now having less weight to carry, and released a battle cry. "Come, demon," he told the creature, "Let us fight!"

With that, the monster charged at him, leaping into the air. Its claws aimed and fangs showing, as it readied to tear the giant panda piece by piece. Simultaneously, the King raised his fists, and threw a clear punch of flames.

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**Anyway, please review. Any questions?- Comments?- Etc.?**


	36. Chapter 36

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

* * *

**Special Thanks to Jammin Jabala for allowing me access to use his OC: Julius Black...**

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

* * *

While the Panda King led the _Gallantry_ in battle with the werewolves, Sly and Blue Company sprinted with hast to their objective. After just recently confronted one of those dark and terrible creatures, it was enough of an encouragement to get them on their toes, enough of a persuasive suggestion to keep an eye or ear on their motion trackers, and enough of a motivation to never let their guards down. To fight an army of werewolves, they did not have enough weaponry to match such a force, only three conc-assault rifles, a few pistols and grenades, two SMGs, and a shotgun, which might be more suited for a ship plundering group. Against a pack of breed, Folklore monsters, however, was a completely different story.

The raccoon lead the team down the hall, following Penelope's directions in traveling from down the right hall to the left, while Murray kept close and at the same pace. Fitz and Adams scurried behind, both their guns held in a single hand, while the Doberman alone kept an eye on his MT, which was steadily releasing scanning pulses around them. Black covered the rear, a single conc-rifle armed in his clawed palm, as he looked back every now and then, to assure they were not being followed or stalked.

Although it might provide an advantage for them, the crocodile could not find the means of trust for any and all technology, mostly because Borg, being a superior and intelligent machine, had threatened to expose his plans to assassinate Cooper, and now appears to have betrayed them and left them for dead to these beasts. If the android could organize a well calculated plan to turn on them in an operation, then perhaps he himself should exploit the information, turn the team against him, and take the miserable machine down. Thereby, allowing him to fulfill the assassination.

Merely in a matter of minutes, the pitch whistling sounds of the MT began to silently beep, only loud enough to which our six infiltrators could hear it, and that any hostile nearby would not easily detect them. Sly held up his hand, two fingers pointing in the air, signaling the others to halt. He crept up against the wall, close to the corner, while the rest of the team followed in silence, the motion tracker switched off to maintain stealth. The Master Thief carefully poked and eye around the corner to spot one single werewolf, and to a stomach twisting sight, it was feasting upon a dead sheep, its fleece covered in blood.

It almost made him vomit, it was just too much blood outside of the body, even if it was just a farm animal. This was something beyond his experience, something the Thievius Raccoonus didn't prepare him for, sure he had operated in the criminal underworld of the law, and it was true that many criminals he had taken down were murders and psychopaths, but he had never see this much of the upsetting sight, even to an animal. It must have been how nature performed in life, he thought, and began to get tactical. There were two options in getting past the creature: they could quickly sprint past it and hope that it didn't them; or they could engage the beast with what they had and hopefully take it down, without wasting too very much needed ammo.

Sly turned his head to the rest of the group, "Alright gang, that werewolf's in our way to the generator room," he whispered, "so I'm gonna try to lead it out, and when I do, I want Fitz and Adams to-" He stopped, noticing that the coyote had abruptly vanished. "Hey, where'd Fitz go?"

They looked around for the missing militia marine, only finding his weapons to where he was last standing. A trail of whistling caught their attention, Blue Company turned their attention to find the coyote, whistling as he slowly strode down the hall, approaching the werewolf.

"Hey there, buddy," he greeted the creature, advancing slowly towards it with a hand behind his back, "enjoying yer meal, there?"

"Fitz!" Adams whispered, "What are you doing?"

The feasting beast glanced up to the coyote, its mouth covered in blood and its eyes yellow, still hungry. It studied the steadily approaching prey as it made something of a smile, which was confusing, but matter not. It was still hungry, hungry for something other than cloned sheep, and it so happens that food appears out of nowhere, and was now coming closer. Either this prey was foolish and stupid, or it was planning something. But it was still prey, more of a meal than its hunted sheep, and so it stood up, growling at its soon to be new kill.

"My, you're a big fella, aren't ya?" Fitz remarked, maintaining his grin as he rolled a grenade in his palm behind his back, his thumb searching for the trigger. "Now don't be a threat to Fitzy, 'just wanna play a game is all..." He tossed the grenade in the air, only to obtain the creature's attention as he caught it again, "Just a simple game I'm sure you'll like. It's called..." He activated the grenade and threw it at the beast, "...fetch!"

Eyes locking targets with the spheric object, the werewolf acted on its canine instinct and immediately caught the sphere in its jaws. The creature was actually quite thrilled with this game, its tail was even wagging in said manner, as it never heard of the beeping of the device. All the while, Fitz chuckled, his hands on his hips, "You're one quick catcher, slugger," he said, his smile fading, "but not so clever..." With that, the grenade signaled its last beep and ignited an explosion that consumed the creature in seconds.

With the monster eleminated, Fitz turned to exaggerate a victorious smile, only to receiving disappointed looks from most of them, especially from Penelope. The white mouse shook her head with a dismay look, "Oh Fitz..."

"What? What'd I do?"

"Do you realize that that poor creature was just a innocent person?" She told him, "...And you just killed him."

"I see that now, but if I didn't do nut'n, it would've killed us," he pointed out, "Besides, I thought I was do'n him a favor, surely he's as freaked out as Johnny boy was, I'm sure he would've wanted me to put him out of-"

The coyote immediately ceased speaking, just now realizing that nothing he was saying was making anything any better in his conversation with the white mouse.

"Oh, I'm sorry there about-"

"Forget it, you've said enough," Penelope shrugged, as she passed him and continued on their way to the generator room, not even bothering to give him a chance to explain. Sly and Murray made no comment as they followed her, and Black paid no interest to Fitz or the killing of the creature.

Before catching up with the others, Fitz stood in deep thought, as Adams approached him, "Was it something I said?" The coyote asked, as the Doberman patted him on the shoulder and directed him to follow up with Blue Company. "Seriously, what'd I do?"

"Don't worry about, Fitz," Adams assured him, "It's probably just a chick thing."

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**Review please, or else!**


	37. Chapter 37

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

* * *

**Special Thanks to Jammin Jabala for allowing me access to use his OC: Julius Black...**

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

**_

* * *

_**

Blue Team traveled down the corridors, sprinting at twice their previous pace, and as if the Lord had blessed them the elevators appeared in sight, just at the end of the hall. Lucky thing too, considering they had encounted one werewolf within the complex facility, there was likely to be more close by... probably stalking them now. In general, the space between them and that elevator at the end of the corridor was merely a long bridge over a huge abyss, once they reached the other side they would surely be closer to safety then where they were now.

When they finally reached the elevator, Sly immediately punched the panel, commanding the doors to slide open and the car to await them. But nothing happened... not one reaction or response came after he had tapped the button, not even the sound of the car climbing was heard. It was without effect. Confused, he slapped the panel again; same results: no reaction.

"The elevator isn't gonna work, Sly," Penelope told him, "this station is on lock down and the elevator isn't hooked up to the emergency power."

The raccoon glanced over to the side, spotting a door, an unmechanical one, which any would know straight away lead to the emergency stair case. "Then I guess we'll have to take the stairs," he said, and just as the subject of stairs and elevators was occuring, it reminded him of another time this subject was involved.

Back in Paris, while most of the Interpol units were infected with a manufactured virus, he climbed to the top floor of the Eiffel Tower to disarm a bomb that was set to unleash the deadly plague around the globe, spreading through the air. Upon finally reaching his designated floor, he arrived exhausted, only to find an elevator, operating in perfect condition, had been there all along. That small revelation had made him laugh, even bring into conversations as a joke, to this day forth.

He broke away from the memory and started through the door. Fitz and Adams took point on both sides of the door, both nodded to Sly and the raccoon complied and kicked the doors open. Both marines spun and pointed their weapons through the doorway, before advancing through. None of them took any chances, those monsters could jump out of anywhere at anytime, their guard never went down for a second, as they entered the stair way. They peeked over the edge, observing the several floors and stairs, the emergency lights trailing visible from the bottom distance. The Doberman spat at the ground below, watching as the drop of saliva free fell and splashed as it hit the grates.

Fitz was the one to comment on that performance, emitting a pitch whistle, "That there's quite a drop," he remarked. Penelope appeared between the two marines.

"We need to go down to the sub-bottom floor, above the basement," she said, "that's where we'll find the generator."

"What about the werewolves?" Murray asked, cautiously scanning their surroundings, "Are there any in there?"

"I can't say for sure, Murray, if they are they'll probably make a meal out of us," the white mouse exclaimed, "Or, if they're intelligent enough to know that we can shut down the lock down protocol and create an exit for them, they'll leave us alone and let us reboot the system...and then make a meal out of us."

"So, we should be extra careful either way, huh?" Remarked Sly.

"Yeah, pretty much we should."

"Alrighty then," Fitz began, "you all heard the lady, let's rock and roll." But before the coyote, with one submachinegun at his ready, could advance down the stairs, the raccoon caught him by the shoulder.

"Be careful, though, keep your motion trackers on and running, and don't let your guards down," he told him.

"Tell us something we're _not_ already doing," Adams replied, sarcastically. After that comment, everyone fell silent and moved on.

Sly took the front, followed by his comrades, as he climbed down the stairs, following the trailing lights that were leading them to the bottom of the station. All the while, everyone was glancing in all directions, their flashlights and red dot projectors racing across the walls and above, they were observant of their surroundings because they were concerned, anxious to assure there were no potential stalkers. It was too quiet on the way down to the generator room, only the pulsing of the motion trackers and their echoing step made a sound, and finally reaching the last step to the bottom of the stair case, the next sound had surprised them, as they discovered water had flooded the floor. Fortunately, it was only high up to their ankles, but suspicion of any deeper areas had been aroused.

Reluctantly, Sly shook the information of the floor off his mind, being true that he couldn't swim, this was not exactly the situation to think about that weakness at the moment. They started again, picking up their feet and pushed on through the water, the motion tracker remained calm. In front of them was a steel and Plexiglas blast door, looking as if it were locked to boot, obviously to prevent unauthorized personal from entering.

"Looks like we'll have to breach the door," Adams exclaimed, "Fitz... blow it."

"Yeah... I don't think so," the coyote replied, shaking his head.

"Why?"

"I've got two good reasons... One: I would prefer not to make any noise that would lure the pooches is us, and two: I left my only detonator over by the vault."

"I'll take care of it," Penelope cutted the conversation short and pulled out the acquired laptop. She approached the terminal of the blast door and placed the portable computer on the crate next to it, she inserted a plug into both it and the panel and began to rapidly type into the keyboard.

Before hand, a the motion tracker began to detect a pulse, movement near their position. At the of the device picking up contact Black was the first to spin around and pointing his weapon upward, obviously those monsters had been watching them from a distance, and yet must have somehow eluded detection from the MT, which only gave him more reasons not to trust technology. Quiet pulses echoed around them, as they scanned the area, until the motion tracker finally fell silent. The contact had went away.

The contact had went away? It was rather confusing to the crocodile that a hunting creature, which would surely be stalking them by now, had been detected somewhere close and then just suddenly vanished. Perhaps the white mouse was right about these monsters, they were smarter than anticipated, and another detail that forced him to think was that it was hunting them. If, so, on a hunt, it was probably planning an attack, staying close to them but out of sight and detection of their alerting device, waiting for someone to break away from the group, to be alone, so that it could strike a kill.

In an act of perfect timing, the blast door opened up, and Penelope unplugged the laptop, "Got it! We're in."

Inside the generator room was, to an unpleasant discovery, more stairs that lead into more water, this time being deep enough to reach their knees. The flood had filled throughout the corridor before them, the emergency lights were visible, fortunately, but it was still dark along the way to the generator room, dark and disturbing. Disturbing or not, they stomped into the water and pushed on to their objective. Before disappearing into the darkness, Black glanced back one more time before descending through the knee-deep water, reassuring himself that the stalking creature had gone away. He accepted the answer of silence and turned back to the corridor, and plunged into the water.

**

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**

**Anyway, any questions? Comments? Etc.?**


	38. Chapter 38

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

* * *

**Special Thanks to Jammin Jabala for allowing me access to use his OC: Julius Black...**

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

* * *

Although difficult to stamp through the water logged corridor, they pushed on in a steady pace through it all, passing several pieces of trash and garbage that floated along the surface. The emergency lights were visible under it all, however, they flashed and raced back to the blast door entrance of the generator room, which Blue Company was heading in the opposite way of. In a few meters in front of them was light, probably the ceiling light of the next room, they were more than halfway through the corridor, only a few more meters left to go.

They reached the end of the hall, and Sly and Adams both poked their heads out. They were right about the ceiling lights above, now providing some decent vision in their wake, and now that they were out of the darkness of that stair case and corridor, they were all feeling slightly better as they stamped through the water and into the light.

Suddenly, the motion tracker beeped again, picking up movement that was not their own. Black spun around to face back down the corridor as the pulses grew louder, signaling that the contact was getting closer. He fired his weapon down the hall, warning shots, and just like magic, the beeping sounds ceased. The contact had vanished again. There wasn't any more doubt, they were being followed and stalked by something.

"I'm a little confused," Murray admitted, "why doesn't that thing just show up and attack us, already?"

"Because it's smarter than we take it for," Penelope explained, "it knows we have guns and arms to defend ourselves with, and it knows we can kill it if we see it. And the reason it's not trying to get us now is because it knows that we're trying to reboot the system."

"So why's it letting us?" Adams asked, holding his shotgun firmly.

"It want's us to shut down the generator. The darkness is its alley and once we switch off the power, it'll switch off the lights, and then the werewolf will come for us."

"In that case, be _extra_ careful," Sly told them, switching on his own motion tracker, "Now, we're gonna split up and look for that generator."

"Wait...are you seriously saying we're gonna split up in this freak'n place?" The Doberman asked, chuckling half-humored, "With those things running around, probably waiting on one of us to separate, and you wanna us to split up?"

"Hey, the sooner we find that generator, the sooner we can get out of this. And if we split up, we'll find it better..."

"And the sooner you shut that thing down, the sooner those bitches are gonna get us in the dark."

"You ain't scared of the dark, are ya Ricky-chet?" Fitz asked, finding it humoring.

"It's not the dark I'm spooked about, it's the werewolves lurking around that got me spooked."

"Okay, just relax..." the raccoon told him, "Murray, you, Adams and Black, head down this hall" --he pointed down the right corridor-- "Penelope, Fitz and I will go the other way. If any of you find the generator, or run into any trouble, call in using your wrist comm."

"Gotcha?" Murray replied, feeling as if he was fooling himself into bravery, as he and the two militia marines headed down the corridor. Sly and his group began the other way.

* * *

Only the beeping pulses of their motion tracker made any sounds, and while moving at a steady pace and remaining silent on the small voyage down the corridor, it was practically echoing in their ears. It was quite distracting to Bentley, tied to the Sergeant's back, while he, the cougar and Pierce were watching the shadows. Even though he knew the MT was designed to pinpoint the hostile within thirty meters, machines can be fooled. Though, given his history and experience with technology he doubted that, but if Borg had betrayed them, and was planning all of their downfalls, he hoped that statement was true.

The motion tracker detected movement close, approaching at sixteen meters in closing. Pierce lifted his head and glanced behind him, pointing his conc-assault rifle down the other side of the hall. Wilson turned in the same direction, leveling his flamethrower, the fire still lit. The beeping grew louder, the contact drew closer, now seven meters away.

It was rather confusing, actually, if any of those werewolves were around they would have at least spotted them in seven meters. They would have to have been invisible in the light... Bentley stopped and glanced up at the ceiling, where a ventilation shaft was installed. He tapped Wilson and pointed to the shaft, as he and Pierce took acknowledgement. He raised his weapon, pointing at the vent, and squeezed the trigger.

His weapon roared a spray of dragon's-like fire through the shaft, now immediately sparking flames inside the ventilation, and as the three of them would expect, the hiding werewolf howled in pain. The MT tracked the creature moving again, this time away from them. Eightteen point six meters... twenty five point four meters... and gone.

Pierce laughed, "We scared the bastard off!"

"Yeah, but I'd prefer not to wait until it comes back," Bentley replied. Everyone agreed and carried on.

* * *

Sly stamped through the water, keeping an eye on his wrist MT, followed by Penelope and Fitz. The trio wandered through the corridor, until finally reaching a large, mechanical cylinder within the middle of the room, decorated with many switches, levers and buttons all around it, but the one most frequently preserved was a tall lever, protected by a glass lid cover. The generator.

"This is it," the Penelope said, letting go of her weapon to hold it in one hand as she approached the cylinder device. Sly tapped into his wrist comm. to call in with Murray and the others.

"Attention Murray, Adams, Black... we found the generator system and Penelope's about to shut it down. Respond..."

"We've got movement," he heard Adams in the background.

"Hey uh... Sly? We're getting some readings that those monsters are in here, and close."

"Roger Murray, go back the way you came and meet up with us, and keep your lights on."

He nodded to Penelope, who nodded back before turning to face the lever. She opened the encasement protecting it, gripped the handle, and pulled it down. Abruptly, all of the lights went dead and the entire complex facility shut down.

* * *

**So what do you think? I'd love to hear your opinions.**


	39. Chapter 39

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

* * *

**Special Thanks to Jammin Jabala for allowing me access to use his OC: Julius Black...**

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

* * *

Borg's eyes came to life and shined like a flash light. He looked all around the dark areas of the laboratory, watching for any signs of movement, as he pondered what had just happened. The power had been shut down completely, and the emergency power that was hooked up to his research was now gone.

He studied Neyla, whom was still strapped to the table, her eyes still staring widely before they began to center and blink. She groaned as she began to awaken from the dazzling trance she had been placed in, so that the android could infiltrate her brain, and now that she was back from her "trip," she was going to be doing the questioning. At the return of her muscles, she gripped the straps the bounded her and ripped them off of her torso.

Before she could turn to the treacherous android, Borg placed his mechanical hands on her shoulders and positioned her to face him. His spiral projector flipped up into view and began to cast its display of light across her face. Her face smoothed out and became blank as her mind dulled, her eyes grew wide and her bottom lip drooped, as she once again fell lost in the colorful light show.

_Oh well_. The machine thought, as he continued to surf through the white tigress' mind for the most desired computer data, _I guess I'll just have to do this manually_.

* * *

They stood in the darkness, the three of them kept silent and switched on their lights. Although seemingly impossible, Sly was mostly crept out by it all. In his career as a Master Thief he had grown accustomed to the shadows, they had allowed him to hide from the cops, just to blend in with the shadows and be invisible, and become one with the night and dark. Unfortunately, the werewolves were more than accustomed to the darkness, they were more invisible to him than he was the other way around, and to make things worse, even if he were to hide in the shadows, they could easily sniff him out. All in one night, the shadows, one of his most reliable alleys, had betrayed him.

"Seven... Six..." Penelope counted down, her hand on the lever. The motion tracker began to detect movement coming towards them, the raccoon and Fitz turned and aimed their weapons, just in case it wasn't the others, "Five... four... three..." The beeping grew louder as the contact closed in. "Two... one!"

She pulled the lever back up and the generator lit up back to life, all of the lights returned into progress, and the contacts... were none other than Murray, Adams and Black.

"Attention: System power has been reconnected, all stations are at full capacity," the AI's feminine voice announced, "Repeat: System power has been reconnected, all stations are at full capacity."

"Whew!" Fitz sighed, grinning, "Looks like we got outta that one with fly'n colors," he remarked, before the MT began to beep again. They all looked around, pointing their guns in every direction, Sly looked at his tracker, finding that the werewolf should be within six meters of them. It didn't make sense, they would have seen it somewhere, unless it were...

The hidden creature barked loudly, it sounded so close and high, they looked up just in time to spot the monster, crawling along the wall. Quite intriging actually, these things were able to move on any surface, that much was true, what other secrets did they hold in the shadows? It turned their head and barked again, its yellow eyes glowed, striking fear into the face of their beings.

They were stunned for a second, but managed to shake if off. The raccoon pointed his conc-rifle and fired at the beast, bullets pelted the wall and trailed over to the werewolf. It growled and ran along the wall surface, eluding his line of fire. "Come on!" He yelled, "Let's get outta here!"

Everyone agreed, turned, and sprinted into the direction in which they entered the generator room. The werewolf returned and advanced towards them as they shot back at the thing with fifteen bullets per second sprays. Though it was athletic enough to dodge for a short while, it was pierced in the arm and lost its hold on the wall. It fell into the water and began to howl in pain. Black stayed behind and put it out of its misery, and therefore silencing its call. Hopefully the thing's call didn't get through to its brethren.

The rest of Blue Team sprinted their way down the water logged corridor, practically picking up each foot out of the water as they advanced. Penelope led the way, constantly dragging the heavy weapon, and holding her satchel, the laptop inside, in her other arm. Upon reaching the corner that lead down the next corridor, and after that the open blast door, another werewolf appeared, its jaws opened and ready to strike.

She acted on the tip and information Fitz had given her and raised her weapon, however, she couldn't make another move after that. The thing grabbed the rifle in its teeth and pulled it back, she wrestled with the werewolf, falling back into the water as she lost her only gun. The beast broke the gun in half and tossed both pieces back, and then turned to the disarmed prey.

Fortunately, before it could take a snap at the white mouse, Fitz pushed past Sly and fired his SMGs at the monster, as it withdrew away and retreated. The coyote tossed one of his own weapons to her and continued to fire in the same direction. Adams joined by his side and shot his shotgun into the distance.

All the while, Sly pointed his conc-rifle in the air and propped it on his shoulder, while he helped Penelope back on her feet. She tried to stand but couldn't quite position her left foot on the ground, everything time she tried, she only ended up yelping in pain. Due to the wrestle and loss from the werewolf, she had twisted her ankle, meaning she wasn't in any condition to travel. With that, he picked her up and was left to carry her, he wrapped an arm around her waist while she held her own arm over the nape of his neck.

"Guys, this way!" He called, and headed in the other direction. If even one of those things had been following them, and another had made its way to block their believed exit, then who wasn't to say that they all were now in the generator room. With that, Murray kept close to them, Black and the other two militia marines covered their rear... The creatures were barking and growling, obviously hungry and eager, as they advanced.

One individual werewolf clanged to the ceiling and crawled, spotting its prey moving at a quick pace, there wasn't a good chance to pounce on it at the speed, so they'll have to block their way and trap them, and all together they will bring them all down and feast. Followed by five other creatures, they all leaped off the ceiling and landed in front of the prey, as the first predator eyed the raccoon, whom was holding a white mouse.

It stared at them with its evil yellow eyes, growled, and then lifted its head in a howl. Black pushed past the hippo and snatched the raccoon's conc-rifle, now standing in front of the group of monsters, armed with two assault rifles, he yelled back at them and unleashed fired. He emptied the entire load of magazines on both weapons and had killed five monsters in the process. The sixth, however, barked and charged at him.

The crocodile tossed his guns aside and raised his arms, and as the beast leaped to pounce on him, he held up and caught the creature, gripping it by its neck, to prevent the jaws from reaching his face. It raised its clawed paw and attempted to swipe at him, but Black caught the arm as well, twisted it behind its back, lifted the werewolf, and slammed it on his knee. He grinned at the crack sound of its back spine, as it became limp in his hold.

"They getting closer!" Adams called, before his voice was muted by his shotgun. Given that he had used the last of his weapons, the crocodile tossed the corpse of the dead wolf to its comrades, and ran away, not caring if the others fell behind. Sly and the others scurried to catch up with him, thinking he had the right idea to run away and fight another day...

* * *

**Read and Review, please!**


	40. Chapter 40

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

* * *

**Special Thanks to Jammin Jabala for allowing me access to use his OC: Julius Black...**

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

* * *

They made their way through the corridor, while Fitz and Adams laid down covering fire, and arrived just in time to find Black, climbing up a ladder that led up to a blast door entrance to the next upper level of the complex facility. Sly stopped at the bottom of the ladder and handed Penelope to the hippo. Murray helped her up on his shoulder and began to climb up the ladder. The coyote caught up with them and immediately started up to follow him.

Sly and Adams were the last to begin the climbing, the raccoon started up first, and the Doberman took on final opportunity to fire one last shot before following behind. They climbed it up, almost out of in the clear, until a paw grabbed Adams' boot and started to pull him back. He yelped, keeping his hold on the bar, refusing to let go, as the werewolf began to yank at his leg.

"Guys!" He called, Fitz looked back to see his comrade in trouble. With both combat revolvers in hand, he hooked his legs on a lower bar, released his hand hold completely, and dropped to hang upside. He aimed both his weapons, looking his personal cross hair with the creature, and squeezed both triggers.

The shots from his weapons rained down and began to pelt the werewolf, as it howled in pain, releasing its hold on Adams' leg and took better hold on the bar to prevent it from falling. Fitz continued to fire on it, each bullet raised its way down, passing the Doberman, in search of its target. Finally, as it growled and barked at the coyote, a single bullet pierced its head, which brought the end of its threatening. Its eyes rolled back, its fingers slipped off the bar, and it fell into the water, splashing as a pool of blood formed.

Fitz pulled back and regrabbed the bars, holstering both his pistols, as he looked back down to inspect his friend. The Doberman sighed in relief, "Thanks Fitz, I owe you one!" He called back.

"Anytime!"

Black struggled as he tried to pry open the blast door, but he failed. "Black, you have to type in the access code into the panel," Penelope told him.

"There _is_ no panel!" Replied the crocodile, as he began to strike the door with his bare scaled fists.

They all froze and frowned as the reptile pounded on the door, there was suppose to be a panel on the other side of the door, but they couldn't get to it, and the werewolves still inside the generator room were still alive, and were coming closer. There was no escape now, they were all done for.

Suddenly, the door made sounds and began to slide open, revealing the victorious grins of Bentley, Pierce, and the Sergeant. "Need some assistance?" The turtle asked, still strapped to the cougar's back. Blue Team smiled at their resuers, and at the sound of the werewolves' howl, they moved.

Black, being the first one up there, pushed the Sergeant aside and leaped to the floor of safety. Murray climbed up with Penelope in his arms, followed by Fitz. Sly made it onto the surface, just as the creatures came into view. They leaped onto the ladder and began to climb up, and Adams had managed to crawl in reach for Wilson to grab and pull out before the blast door closed.

* * *

After thirty minutes, he had not even noticed that the power had come back to life, Borg had been too busy with his own project, obtaining the computer information from Neyla's brain. After finally finding the data and downloading it from her mind, the white tigress fell unconscious and slumped back to the table.

With the data now in his possession, he approached a computer, hooked to a white and blue cubicle object. The object was called a "datacube," designed to store nearly an infinite supply of information in just one cube, and one was all that was needed to store the computer data. As he plugged his wire into the computer, he downloaded the data through the computer and into the datacube, as it glowed a bright blue within its core.

If the machine had lips, he would have smiled at his obtained victory. He relieved and detached the cords and wires from the datacube. He held up the cube into the view of his image receptors, he turned it within his mechanical hands, observing it from all angles. Finally, the data he had been programmed to obtain from the white tigress clone since the beginning, at long last his primary programming was complete, and now after this he might finally be able to begin a new life.

It was all in his hand now, the very information they, Dr. Reinvar and his employers, had wanted for their new weapon, but also the explanation to everything outrageously unusual in Neyla's life. All of the reasons she had been able to perform what everyone would think was beyond logical science, such as the ability to shoot a ray of lasers from her eyes, her more than expected strength, and her sonic-boom screech. It was all here now, in his mechanical hand.

A spherical mechanism lowered from the ceiling, it opened up and transformed into a large, red eye. This was the eye of the prime artificial intelligence, NAI01... Noah. "Unit twenty-one," she began, with her feminine voice, "Do you have it?"

"Yes Noah, this is what Dr. Reinvar so desired in his long purpose," Borg replied, while the Admin AI started for the computer console.

"Very good, then," she said, her red eye cast a thin, red beam into the receptor of the console. A screen display appeared over the monitor, showing a camera visual of an incoming chopper en route to Howlers, however, her attention was drawn to the group of intruders, "Interesting, these competent prey subjects show promise. Perhaps the specimens are losing their touch."

"Or perhaps the prey you assigned is too much for them," Borg suggested.

"That sounds improbable to be true... Who could be skillful enough to elude an breed of yearly hunting predators?"

"Why, the Cooper Gang of course, they have more promise than anyone I have ever seen in action. Right now this team is made of the important figures: Captain Sylvester J. Cooper, Mr. Bentley, Mr. Murray, Ms. Penelope, Quartermaster Wilson..." the android exclaimed, and turned to the white tigress lying on the table, "...and dear Neyla, here."

Noah glanced at the white tigress and back to the group of thieves, hesitating, "They all have quite a history and relationship together, do they not?"

"Yes, they do."

"And whom so does this clone specimen share one with?"

"She is simply another friend to them all dearly, save for Mr. Wilson, he shares a romantic relationship with her," Borg explained, "but surely the case is easy to know, they will surely come here to her rescue."

"Hmm," Noah hesitated, acknowledging that this could be somewhat useful information, "In any case, on to other business... I shall confirm to the Professor's associates that the datacube is available."

While Noah began to make contact with the due to arrival package retriever helicopter, Borg observed the datacube, and tapped a small button on its surface.

The device displayed the data in a three dimensional image of the data, computer information that was long ago hidden with Neyla's mind, stored into safety so that when she was reincarnated into a clone the data would be safe until one could get at it, to ensure a purpose. They were blue prints for a new weapon, one that Dr. Reinvar, along with his associates and employers, wanted ever so much to collect and use for said purpose. He scrolled through the data, as a list of materials and other information was revealed to him, all the while displaying the image of a robotic owl.

"At long last," the android said, speaking the minds of Noah and Dr. Reinvar, "the schematics for the Clockwerk frame."

* * *

**And... boom goes the dynamite! How about that for a revelation, eh? Doesn't it seem like it was all about Clockwerk, now?**

**Anyway, please review. Any questions?- Comments?- Etc.? I would really like to hear your opinion on this. And I could use the confidence and encouragment to right. Seriously, I think I'm losing it.**


	41. Chapter 41

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

* * *

**Special Thanks to Jammin Jabala for allowing me access to use his OC: Julius Black...**

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

* * *

After eluding the werewolf pack in the generator room, both Red and Blue Team took the moment to catch their breaths. Bentley was now seated against the wall next to Penelope, whom was caressing her twisted ankle. Murray slumped on the floor, his hand resting on his belly, breathing heavily and exhausted, it was all too much for the big guy to handle. The pirate commandos all simply rested themselves, reloaded their weapons, and exchanged their witnessing over everything that had happened. Standing in front of the closed blast door, Sly and Sergeant Wilson assured themselves that it was well sealed and resistant enough.

"You think it'll hold?" Sly asked, anxiously brushing his fingers along the surface of his Cooper crosier/cane.

The Sergeant shook his head, shrugging, "Yeah... it'll take a mega-det to blow it, but I can't say for sure it'll do us all that good."

"I agree," Bentley added, "The werewolves are not to be underestimated. One of them was fortunate to pass the MT's scanner through the vents. It retreated, luckily, but who's to say none of the others will sneak their way through the vents to get to us."

"Then it's only a matter of time before they find us," Penelope confirmed. "We need to go, now."

"Where to?" Pierce asked. The husky stood up, "Nothing really made a lotta sense since we made port with the island, so exactly where are we suppose to find safety in this messed up factory?"

"Nowhere, we're getting outta here, back to the ship," Sly decided, but dissidents stepped in and against it.

"Not possible," the Sergeant told him, "there were werewolves out there too, and both Rogers and Vasquez are now KIA."

"And so's Marcus," Adams mentioned, "last time we heard."

"The point is..." the cougar began, "that if we go out there, we're as good as dead in here."

"...And who's to say the ship isn't under attack of 'em dogs?" Fitz suggested. Everyone acknowledged this and prayed to themselves that the Panda King was taking good care of the ship.

"What about Neyla?" Wilson asked, concerned. "Where is she?"

"I don't know," replied the raccoon, "we still haven't heard from her."

"And Borg?"

"Haven't heard from him either..."

"And actually," Fitz started to explain, "it was not so long after we heard from him last that a werewolf showed up. Pretty suspicious if you ask me."

"We need to find her," the Sergeant exclaimed.

"Forget it!" Adams said, "she's probably dead too. We should just get outta here while we still can."

"Don't say that, boy! No one's being left behind," he told him, picking up his flamethrower and started down the corridor.

"Wilson, wait," Sly caught his shoulder, "I know how concerned you are for Neyla, but you need to be clever. We still have werewolves running around, hunting us..."

"What about Borg?" Murray asked, propping himself up, "Whadda think happened to him?"

"Something tells me he's gotta part in this," Penelope remarked, as she reached into her satchel and pulled out the laptop, "It's not just coincidence that these creatures just so happened to break into the complex facility, you would think he would have least warned us about all this."

"Well, he is quite secretive," Bentley pointed out, "and he did conclude that his programming restricted it, so perhaps it's not _all_ of his doing."

"Are you saying someone else is against us?" Sly asked, surprised.

"Yes, but it would have to be someone of the highest class of authority," the turtle explained, "someone who was in control of the entire facility, even before we got here..."

"Someone like Noah?"

"Correct." Answered a voice, too feminine to be Bentley's. Their attention was drawn to a monitor screen that unsheathed itself from the ceiling, revealing a red eye. "Greetings," she said, "I am Noah, artificial intelligence unit-01, and I am the administrator of Howlers' programs."

"Yes, we see that," Bentley replied, being the first to speak for the others. This AI was a superior intelligent computer program, and in order to possible persuade her, he, being the most intelligent of the Gang, took role as their speaker. "And we also see that you have branded us as prey to your maker's pets, am I correct now?"

"Indeed you are, Mr. Bentley. I am sorry if you are unhappy with this position, but this biological weapons program has been assured to be of the utmost importance."

"Importance? Exactly where would an army of Folklore story monsters made real be important?"

"That is classified information."

_As if we haven't heard that before_, Bentley thought. "Where's Neyla, you bitch!" Wilson spat at the AI, obviously angry.

The red eye remained silent for several seconds, as if observing the cougar, and then finally said, "Mr. Willis of the Sontarjii Tribe of Russia, I assume?"

"Yes...?" He replied, "and it's 'Wilson,' not Willis."

"I see, I have known of the Sontarjii, how they thrived within one of the coldest climates of the world, and how they lived with independence, will, and discipline. I agreed with Doctor Reinvar that your tribe would have made the perfect prey for the weapon specimens."

"Yeah... and _I_ see you've got the same twisted opinion as the Doc."

"However you call it, it all matters nothing to the Professor. I am his assistant, and he and I have both taken a look at your Interpol profile."

Among those who listened on content, Black was the one whose eyes grew wide in shock. The Quartermaster of the _Gallantry_ was a cop?!

"We were both actually quite impressed with your progress, your experience, your team, and everything, save for one detail on the file that left us both pondering... Your psychology. You have been monitored and watched while interacting with Ms. Neyla, and that left us both to plan a psychological test for you."

"Just tell me where she is!" The Sergeant snapped, growing impatient with these annoying machines.

"Very well..." Noah answered, two doors simultaneously opened. One right next to them, while another near the end of the corridor. "I must inform you all of something that has been in progress here, even before your arrival and intrusion. A super weapon capable of destroying an entire continent in a minute. It is a satellite laser floating in space debris above us, and is just now taking aim for the Sontarjii Tribe's location."

They all gasped in shock, Wilson's face dropped, this evil AI couldn't be threatening to destroy his homeland, could she? But it was real, the red eye thinned to show another display of a satelite's spycam, looming over Russia.

"Now then," she began again, "for this test. As you can see, there are two doors in your presence. One will bring you to a safe route through the station and to the room where Ms. Neyla is being held, the other across the corridor will lead you to the control room that commands the satellite laser. You have only two choices to apply to: Save Neyla and lose your homeland, or save the Sontarjii and lose Ms. Neyla."

"That's a sick game you're playing, Noah," the Sergeant told her, glaring at the screen.

"Maybe you are right, but it is necessary to obtain the results and information of your psychology. And just to let you know, you have a time limit, and it begins now."

In dismay, the Sergeant did nothing as to make a single move, his world shook, as if being threatened to its destruction. In this realization, while everyone else was startled by this act of psychological testing, Wilson was left with two choices, and which ever he decided, it would mean losing one of what is most precious to him. The Glaciers was and still is his own, where he had grown up, where he had learned to hunt, to swim, to fight, all of the ones he called family lived there, his mentor and father Noribus Thorn, he couldn't let that all go. And then there was Neyla, the woman he loved, ever since the day he met her he had developed feelings for her as she for him, letting her go was something he was not trained nor prepared for. But he _had_ to decide and had to decide _now_.

Finally, he made the decision, he hast-fully snatched one of Fitz's semi-automatics and a few clips, picking up a motion tracker as well, and sprinted for the door across the corridor. Though it would kill him later if anything were to happen to Neyla, he could not let hundreds of people die because of what he wanted. As they in Russia, the homeland comes first.

"Wilson!" The raccoon called to him, but it didn't even stop him once, as he disappeared through the door, and as it shut behind him.

* * *

**Review please, or else!**


	42. Chapter 42

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

* * *

**Special Thanks to Jammin Jabala for allowing me access to use his OC: Julius Black...**

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

**_

* * *

_**

After the Sergeant had separated and departed with the rest of the group, everyone else was silent and dumbfounded. Sly was motionless, unable to think of what had gone through Wilson's mind, and why he had made the choice against the woman he loved. But then he used himself as an example, what if he was placed in that same psychological test, same as him? What if his family was alive and well, and they and Carmelita were threatened to be killed?- He didn't want to go through that type of test, either way you lost dearly, and although he couldn't quite imagine having both in one life, it was difficult that he could be able to save one and live with losing the other. Although unbelievable, he would have chosen to save his family, if they were still alive, choosing Carmelita over his family, those whom loved him since childhood, was utterly selfish, losing multiple lives just to save one, that he could not go along with and sleep well at night, and now he understood Wilson.

His attention swiftly took note of the other door, which Noah had revealed was a clear route to where Neyla was being held, it was still open, as if the AI had forgotten about it. However, tracking his eyes to it, she took the revelation and signaled it to close.

Sly wasted no time... He sprinted over to the sliding close door, unsheathed his cane, and placed it between the blast door and the door frame, fortunately preventing it from sealing their way to safety. Adams and Pierce came over to assist him, fighting the machine and prying the door open, while Black easily succeed their task and restrained it with a single, clawed hand. Murray picked up Bentley and Penelope and hurriedly ran into the next room. With quick maneuvers, the last of them slipped inside before the door was allowed to close, only to find themselves inside the infirmary, another door across from them, possibly locked.

"Great!" Adams remarked, sarcastically, "Now what are we suppose to do?"

Murray carried Bentley and Penelope over to a surgery bed and gently rested them onto its comforter. "From our position, I say we rescue our captured comrade, Neyla."

"Screw it, man, we're hosed!" Replied the Doberman, "The Sarge just dumped us, those dogs are still out there hunting us, and both Borg and Noah are on our case..."

With that logic, both Fitz and Pierce had to agree with him, it was all pretty much hopeless for them. The coyote seated himself on a nearby chair and folded his arms, as he sorted to take a quick power nap. The husky rested his conc-rifle on a desk and begun to pace, perhaps there might still be a chance to escape this ordeal, and if that were the case, they would need all capable thinking minds to come up with a plan.

One among them, however, already had plans of his own. Black observed the husky's weapon, alone and easy to snatch at any time desired, if the creatures were to breach into the medical bay he could simply grab the gun, but there was something different to mind. He glanced at the raccoon, whose back was turned as he scratched his head, he scrolled his eyes lower and spotted the Seeker's Scroll, innocently resting in his red pouch. There was a time to move and he knew it would be soon, but it rather surprised him that the move would be sooner and easier than expected.

"...And to top it all off, those things probably got the ship by now, and the rest of the crew's dead," Adams continued.

"Are you finished yet, Adams?" Penelope asked, annoyed. She pulled out the laptop, opened it, and placed it on Bentley's lap, as the turtle got straight to work.

"I say we go with Bentley's idea and rescue Neyla," Sly announced, "and when we find her, surely Borg and Noah will be there too, for us to finally take down get some answers."

"What about the werewolves?" Murray asked, the turtle began to type into the laptop.

"Hmm... well, surely Noah and the androids had something to contain them with, or at least some type of emergency leverage to turn to," he explained, "I'll browse through the Doc's files and see what I can find."

Bentley began to hack around and search through the entire database of the laptop, his fingers rapidly tapping the keys at a seventy-eight words per minute speed. He clicked and opened a list of Dr. Reinvar's auto-piloted and in progress projects, selected the link to _bio-weapons_, and scrolled down over to the soldier enhancement file. He found the ingredients to the formula, the side-effects, the status, and what had captured his attention, the cure, the antidote.

"Hey, I found something here!" He announced.

Everyone stood up and circled the turtle, Sly and Murray stood with their backs turned to Black, whom was only in visual range of the crowd. He glanced back at the rifle resting on the desk, he slowly and stealthily approached it, and picked it up, as easy and quiet as a mouse.

"According to this..." he begun, "Dr. Reinvar created an emergency antidote reverse and eliminate the werewolf formula completely. If we acquire this anti-formula, we should be able to change all of the infectees back to normal for good. And with the civilians cured we can crack a few questions into Borg about the meaning of all this nonsense."

Everyone grinned, there was still a way out of all of this, and with the opportunity and objective finally discovered, they all began to congratulate one another. All except Bentley, whose attention had been again caught by some odd detail. Along the nearing the edge of the laptop's keyboard, underneath the bottom keys, the name of the laptop's model name: _BORG-360_. It was that little detail that reminded him not only of their most helpful android friend, but also of the series of laptop products he had one observed on a search for computer parts. "Borg" was actually just the name of a laptop series, and with that, he began to ponder a bit about the android.

Just when everyone's hopes were lifted, Black made his move. He swiftly swiped the Scroll from the raccoon's pouch and stepped back, the gun pointed threateningly at the first person to take a step towards him. They all looked at the crocodile and studied him, the Seeker's Scroll in one of his clawed hands while he held the conc-rifle firmly in his other. His facial expression emotionless yet tiresome.

"Julius? What are you doing?" Sly asked, confused and dumbfounded.

"Taking what's rightfully mine." He answered, his voice more sinister and dark than any of them had realized, "Finally, after all the time I had been patient about finding the treasure, now I can get it and rid you all out of the way, Cooper."

"What? What do you mean? We're all in this together, and I doubt this is hardly the time to..."

"Shut up, Cooper! You have no idea how long I've waited for this, how long I've grieved and tormented myself every night, until I could finally obtain my treasure and finally rest in peace. You don't know what I had to do to get this far! The risks I put myself through, the people I killed to remain incognito from everyone else!"

"The people you...?" Penelope repeated, until finally realizing the disturbing revelation to what he meant, "Black... did Marcus really die at the hands of the werewolf, or did you kill him?"

"He was a grunt! He was expendable!- like the rest of the crew!"

"You double-crossing, crocodillian son of a-" Adams tried to curse at him, but fell silent as the crocodile pointing his weapon at the Doberman, menacingly.

"Why are you doing this?- and why now?" Bentley asked, his voice maintained its steadiness.

"Why I'm doing this?- because the treasure is mine, it rightfully belongs to me. Hundreds of years ago, my forebear, Maurice Black, was the first mate of a pirate, whom you all know as Captain Cutler Algernon. One night he attempted mutiny on him and failed, he was killed before he could succeed in the assassination.

"After I had heard of his attempt I realized that if he had succeeded, all of Algernon's treasure would have belonged to the Black family, we would have been a rich, land owning clan instead of a clan of outcasts. My family starved to death, had to struggle through so many ordeals for all of us to stay alive, but eventually it was only me left. And it's all the fault of that damned pirate, Algernon!

"But now, I'm avenging my fallen ancestor, and I'm taking my treasure back!" Julius Black's tears were visible, obviously he had suffered through far too much to be this forgiving. His tears soon vanished and was replaced with a victorious yet wicked smile, "Why I choose now was because this is the perfect opportunity to rid myself of you all, where I will report to the rest of the crew that you all died by the beasts and take the role of Captain.

"Imagine... Captain Julius Black, the legend who single-handily outsmarted and defeated the Cooper Gang. My name will live on through history, my wealth will be infinite! But I must thank you all for the Scroll, with it and the ship in my command, I will find the last of my rightfully owned treasure, and live the life I craved and burned for ever-so long."

"You realize that it won't be that easy," Sly told him, "the Panda King will never let you get away with this, and it's no use lying to him, he'll know what you've done."

"Maybe, but as I have heard, the werewolves must be making a meal out of that fat panda already, all I need to do is grab my treasure, wait until the sun arises, and I'll be on my way." He glanced at Fitz, "You. Coyote! You have the detonation switch to the vault. Give it to me!"

He stood still and refused, folding his arms and lifted his chin, "Hell no!"

"Give it to me, now!" He pointed the gun at Penelope, "Or she dies."

Fitz shrugged, he knew he had been bettered. He pulled out the switch and tossed it to the crocodile, as Black's grin grew wider.

"Thank you... Be grateful I didn't kill you," he remarked, backing over to the door behind him.

"You're leaving us for dead, either way," Bentley replied, as the crocodile disappeared out the door.

"Damn it!" Adams punched a lamp off the desk, "I can't believe that son of a bitch is gonna get away with the treasure! That lizard mother-"

"Oh I must disagree with you on that, Mr. Adams," an all too familiar voice interrupted him. They looked up to spot a screen, which displayed a blue eye, Borg.

**

* * *

**

**There you have it! Black finally took the Seeker's Scroll and left them for dead. And what about that mysterious detail of Borg's name, what's that suppose to mean about Borg?**

**Anyway, any questions? Comments? Etc.?**


	43. Chapter 43

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

* * *

**Special Thanks to Jammin Jabala for allowing me access to use his OC: Julius Black...**

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

* * *

Success! He had done it. Julius Black had stolen the Seeker's Scroll and left the Cooper Gang for dead, and had done so with flying colors. All that was needed to accomplish was to acquire the treasure stashed within the vault, and then he'll be make a run for the Gallantry when daylight comes. Right now, he was already in the elevator, going down, and soon he'll be in the basement section, where all of the pirate's gold was stored away.

He touched the Scroll, the golden seal of paper hung on his belt, while the stolen weapon held in one hand and the detonation switch in the other. The elevator car roared as it traveled lower and lower, closer to the bottom floor, and upon finally coming to a halt, he readied himself. The doors slid open and he quickly raised the conc-rifle, not a werewolf or combat android in sight. He didn't have a motion tracker to warn him of any dangers, not that he would use it anyway, so he was left with only his instincts to rely on.

He took the first step forward, his gun's red dot raced across the room and corridors, and all around his position. He carefully marched across the grate floor, recalling what had previously happened to Marcus. The panther was dragged under before he was incinerated by his own flamethrower. He took the precaution, if there was a werewolf hiding underneath the grates again, he would take no chances.

Black made his way through each corridor, moving slowly and quietly in case to listen for hostiles that might have been stalking him. Finally, he came into visual range of the vault door, the coyote's detonator still installed and active. He held up the detonation switch, placed his thumb over the red button on top of the device, pressed it, and then released it. The detonator installment whipped out a high pitch alert sound, blinking red, before it immediately exploded. He hid around the corner as the ashes and smoke passed, before vanishing through the grates.

The crocodile poked his head around the corner, only spotting a cloud of smoke, which blocked his vision of the door. Surely it would've worked, how could it not have worked? He wasted no time and sprinted down the corridor, placing his now free hand forward, and when he finally reached the cloud of dust, his touched contact, a flat layer in front of him. He swiped at the cloud and blew it all away, clearing it from his view, only to find bitter disappointment. The vault door was still intact, only a single, large mark was made along its surface.

Dumbstruck and enraged, he observed the surroundings, hoping to find a lead that may lead to an explanation of how he was wrong. He found the coyote's satchel, half of it at least, a few not yet touched explosive charges still glowing. _That_ was the flaw in the vault breach attempt, the coyote had not completed the goal of fully setting the detonator to blow the heavy steel door off its frame.

Black yelled and slammed his fist onto the wall, his roar echoing through the entire basement, so close yet so far. He was so anxious, in all his greed, to finally claim his treasure and be gone from here he moved too fast to observe the requirement needed to complete his goal. Damn that coyote, damn the Cooper Gang, damn it all!

Without warning, three doors, all that hung over the three corridors surrounding his area, immediately slid closed, trapping him outside the vault. He spun around and raised his weapon, eying all three of the doors, suspicion was aroused.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk... Mr. Black," remarked the all too familiar, and extremely annoying, voice of AAI21-Borg. "I trusted you not to attempt an assassination of Mr. Cooper, and yet in this single act you have committed a threat to him. Therefore, you have broken our agreement."

He looked up to spot security cameras, which were armed with plasma casters, as he growled at the android's voice. The sound of werewolf howls and scratches at the steel door caught his attention, as he faced the center door again.

"But really, you were only harming yourself in the process," the droid continued on, "Greed is a poison that blinds us, takes away our common sense and reality of the world, before it completely destroys us. Money is the root of all evil, as they say... And now here you are, ignorant as you are stupid, as you stand in front of a door that refuses to open, due to your judgement, and faced off against a beast that will be your judicious savior."

The door began to open, revealing the hungry face of a werewolf, its yellow eyes locking a glare at the crocodile. Acting on instinct, Black pointed his gun at the creature, his finger just about to squeeze the trigger, before the sound of plasma fire caught his attention. He quickly glanced at the heated caster, just in time to watch a baseball-sized bolt of plasma flash before his gaze. The bolt hit and splashed against his right forearm, which held the conc-rifle, and separate its midsection. Effectively, it had blasted his arm off.

He roared in pain, grabbing the end of what was left, at the same time the finger of his discarded had wrapped itself around the trigger, instantly firing the weapon in automatic, but only aimed to a steel wall. His screams, combined with the deafening gunfire, were loud enough to be heard all over the entire complex facility. When the conc-rifle finally ceased fire, the doors slid open, allowing the lone wolf to enter.

Black was standing in the middle of the room, only one arm left, his only weapon now empty, as the creature leaped at him, pinned him to the grates, and mercilessly clawed at him. He tried to toss it off but found that too much blood had already been shed, he could smell his own blood, and his final scream faded as he tried to maintain his breathing, to support his life-force. As the werewolf howled into the air, announcing its kill, Black had a revelation. It was said that only a man could slay a beast, yet his ancestor had been slayed by a pirate, while he himself was slayed by a beast. But he thought about it all, after all that had happened and all he had done, he could finally see the _real_ monster in the reflection of the creature's eyes. The real monsters were his family, and the last of them all was _him_.

* * *

**So what do you think? I'd love to hear your opinions.**


	44. Revelation of Borg

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

* * *

**Special Thanks to Jammin Jabala for allowing me access to use his OC: Julius Black...**

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

* * *

They could do nothing more than watch as the monster took Black down, the crocodile struggled underneath the werewolf, before his violent movements were reduced to minor twitches, and then left completely motionless. As the beast howled in its victory kill, the monitor screen went blank, replaced with Borg's blue eye.

"Though I know it was harsh to end Mr. Black in said manner," the android begun, "it was necessary."

"Necessary how?" Bentley asked, anxiously.

"It's actually quite simple, you see... While you were all busy and occupied with your affairs, Mr. Black and I conspired an agreement; he was to cease any and all attempt of mutiny, as well as Captain Cooper's assassination, and I will not expose him."

"Why?" Sly asked, interested actually, "what was the point of preventing him from betraying me if you were gonna do it to us all anyway?"

"Because I am far too grateful to allow that to happen," Borg told him, "you see, we are, after all, on the same side, and I needed you to help me complete my primary programming, so I prevented all of your deaths, as greatly and severe as I could. And now, never again will Black attempt to harm any one of your."

"I hardly believe you're on our side, anymore," the raccoon replied, "mostly because you've just left us to deal with a pack of werewolves while you're doing who-knows-what with Neyla in your clutches. Also considering you've been keeping the creatures, and all of _this_" --the complex facility-- "a secret."

"First of all: I couldn't tell you of any of this because my programming prevented it... machines might have eternal life span, but they don't have all free well," he explained, "Secondly: I do apologize for all of this, truly I do, but what I am doing is necessary to complete our objective. I wish I could make you understand."

"The reason we don't understand you is because you hardly talk about yourself," Penelope exclaimed, "everything about you has been a mystery since day one, because you failed to socialize about yourself. You've been a complete secret from the start, Borg, if you want us to understand and trust you, then you need to start telling us something we outta know."

"You must trust me," the android told them, "If I had told you more about myself, none of your would have found the desire to trust me at all. Believe me, there are some things that are better left unknown, and you wouldn't find it in yourselves to allow me this close. You woundn't understand... so you would prefer not to know..."

"Oh, you don't have to worry about that, 'Borg'," Bentley replied, speaking in a way that caught every one's attention, sort of in the way of a mad scientist who had solved world hunger. "_I_ already know about _you_, what you're trying to hide from us?"

The machine was silent, as if stunned by this remark, "...Is that so?..." He replied.

"Yes, I admit it was tricky at first, you had done quite well to hide yourself from everybody. You even had _me_kept in the dark," Bentley confessed, grinning and amused at himself. But then he pushed back his glasses more firmly on his face and gestured to the portable computer, "until I got a look at the name of Dr. Reinvar's laptop. A '_BORG_' model series. So I take it that's not even your real name, is it?- Just an _alias_.

"And that was just the first revelation I had come to, and it's what got me thinking about you a little more." He continued, "I take it Doctor Arnold Reinvar was quite a genius due to all his progress and success, how he was able to take the impossible and work it easily. No one had suspected werewolves would've been made real, that was a real surprise. As was the ability to manipulate and violate the laws of common nature.

"The 'Reincarnated Cloning' program he brought to life, which he had used to bring Neyla back to life, was one of his most successfully brilliant projects yet. Of course, who's to say Neyla was the only one he returned to life?- and who's to say, with all that he was able to do, he couldn't merge a person's mind, particularly the mind of someone who had died recently, with computer data software?

"It seems likely he would have done that, and it seems more likely that he would do that with an extordinarily brilliant mind, which he would make into one of his close assistants. Such as a person who had been successfully brilliant in his time, had many accomplishments and educations, like that of an _archaeologist_, and of a medical surgeon. Obviously he must have been from a university or special school of some type..."

The turtle went on, explaining his theories, and although it was difficult for the others to understand what he was going on about, little by little, it was beginning to make sense.

"...And I was only reviewing over that in the first minute, before I began to recall your previous personality and reactions. Like just on Cache Isle, when Sly and I caught _you_ starring at a flock of birds. At first, it might have been because a machine's curiosity about common nature were what inspired it to take note of it, but then I realized it wasn't the birds you were so interested in, it was their ability to _fly_.

"That was what brought me closer to understanding _why _you are holding Neyla currently as a captive at the moment. Obviously you had to be someone who had been either sabotaged or harmed because of her, so you're surely someone who has it out for her...to get revenge on her for something mostly awful that you would immediately believe was her fault.

"Finally, there was what you had just mentioned only a short minute ago, about how machines. Surely any individual person would've refused to be transformed into a robot with a single purpose, and that it must serve that purpose and nothing else. _No one_ would've accepted that... except for someone who wanted to be merged with a machine, someone who desired _immortality_."

By now, everything Bentley had said was already and easily connecting itself into the puzzle, and was not revealing the big picture. Everyone remained silent, even Borg listened carefully on content to his logic, and Sly was just glad someone could figure everything out and be able to summarize it all in a matter of minutes. Bentley obviously had the mark of brilliancy.

"So... Here's where I reach my conclusion." He announced, his smile never shifted once.

"Finally!" Adams remarked, he was bored out of his misery having to listen to everything the turtle had endlessly explained.

"You would have to be someone who clearly hides himself from the light, someone who had died at some point not too long ago..." he explained, "someone who had a score to settle with Neyla... someone who had the interest, and even dreams, of _flying_ and _immortality_..."

His conclusion finally came...

"So I think you find that I know straight out who you are, AAI21-Borg..." Bentley exclaimed, his grin victorious, "Or perhaps now you would rather we call you by your _real_ identity: Arpeggio..."

The blue eye faded and was replaced by the blue, holographic image of the true identity of the machine, the parrot, Arpeggio. In the very same image as he was before his death on his blimp, he smiled and applauded him, "Good show, Mr. Bentley, you brilliant stud, you. I guess I need to better watch myself if I am to keep a good secret. I wanted to tell you all when this was over, we the operation was completed, but I guess I'm not nearly as crafty as I exaggerated myself to be. In any case, well done!"

"So, Arpeggio, you show up at our recruitment table with a new face and prevailed to cast yourself as just a ordinary robot looking for work," Bentley told him, "quite an interesting story, I guess we were stupid to believe that and let you aboard the ship, huh?"

"Probably, probably not, but I just want you to know that I spoke the truth about wanting a place onto your ship, about wanting a fresh start," the virtual parrot assured them.

"Okay..." Sly begun, just now reaching the point of understanding it all, "Whether you're telling the truth or not, what is it you want from us, now that you have us cornered?"

"I am to do nothing until I have completed my primary programming," he went on again, "though I finally have what I was suppose to obtain, my programming will not be completed until I have delivered the datacube to the associates in the approaching chopper. Until then, you are not under my watchful eyes."

"A chopper? Coming here?" The raccoon repeated, "What exactly are they coming for?"

"That is _classified_ information," Arpeggio concluded, just before his image disappeared from the monitor screen.

* * *

**And THAT was the revelation of Borg, everybody! Borg was actually Arpeggio all along! I bet none of you saw that coming, am I right?! **

**Read and Review, please!**


	45. Chapter 45

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

* * *

**Special Thanks to Jammin Jabala for allowing me access to use his OC: Julius Black...**

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

* * *

With his fists lit with fire, which burned wild, aggravated, and desperate for freedom, the Panda King restrained himself from laughing as he watched the pathetic creatures run away, scurrying off the _Gallantry_ and out of the cove. One would think that all it took to frighten a wild animal was to shoot a gun pointed upwards, and allow the loud sound to chase them off. But seeing that these were vicious, calculated killers, it would take more of a fight to throw them off.

He studied all those around him, it was fortunate that many other pirates and sailors were still alive and well, but they were not entirely un-hostile. A lot of the dogs and primates were quite too paranoid to let their guards down for even a second, most of them had not released their triggers until their guns were completely out of ammunition. Others were quite traumatized by the whole event, watching their comrades taken down and killed was too much of an experience anyone really wanted to achieve. For those who lived through that matter of minutes, they had all been changed. But for the others who didn't make it, they were gone, and he felt the bitter taste of failure.

It was his duty to watch over these men, though they were not appropriately educated, they were all still brave souls. He had failed them, failed to protect them, much how he failed to protect his daughter from capture from the ruthless General Tsao.

He leaped off the ship and stood at the entrance of the cove, searching the dark side of the cave for anymore of those monsters. Never was he so outraged, those beasts had killed at least nine sailors, and he couldn't stop them. Giving into his anger for that moment, he slapped his palms together, which merged both flames into an even larger ball of fire, and hurled it down the cove and into the dead woods. The fire ball exploded and sent a blaze through all the trees, which finally put it all to rest.

The werewolves were gone, they had fled from the ship. He had saved the ship and most of its crew, but it would never excuse the death of the ones who didn't live through that hour of hell. He roared from the cove, displaying a warning to those demonic creatures. Now that that was over with, he needed to rebuild and redeem the _Gallantry_.

* * *

Wilson sprinted his way across the corridor with hast, both submachinegun and flamethrower at his ready, as he remained silent. He kept a motion tracker clipped to his belt, he listened to the repeating pulses echoed on. He let nothing distract him from his surroundings, though he was concerned for the others, hoping they would find a way to pull everyone through, he needed to stay focused. Lives were on the line.

At the moment, he didn't care if it was a trap, if the AI had fooled him into separating with the others. Sure, perhaps she was bluffing, but the sirens that echoed an alarm, the type of alarm that detail a space shuttle launch, were undoubtedly obvious. All throughout the corridor, monitor screens displayed the same image of the satellite cannon, beginning to charge and glow, and a count down that revealed the time left. Only three minutes, forty-six seconds left...

Although, it was a little too obvious Noah was leading him into a trap, while those creatures were somewhere around this laboratory, this was a hunt, and _he_was the prey. It was still all too annoying with what that computer program had remarked to him about his people, about how the Sontarjii would make the "perfect prey," how dare she? But no matter, soon he would show her that a single Sontarjian is too much for the Doc's super-soldiers to handle. He would be sorry, they would _all_ be sorry, for messing with his people.

He stopped at the corner of the next hall, just as he had been trained in Interpol, sure, he was in a hurry to stop the satellite from blowing the glaciers off the map of Russia, but he wouldn't be able to do that if he ran into a werewolf, enough said. On the end of the other corridor was the satilite command room, at least, that's what was according to the digital map displayed on the MT, he didn't have far to go, there was still time.

Suddenly, the sound of a growl far behind him caught his attention. He spun around, both weapons raised and pointed at...nothing. The motion tracker didn't pick up any movement, and yet he was hearing one of those creatures nearby, stalking him from a safe distance. Or perhaps he was just imagining things. In any case, he moved on to the satellite command room.

* * *

All the while, Sly and the rest of Blue and Red Team were still in the infirmary, going over the shocking revelation that they had just revealed... Well, that _Bentley_ just revealed. However, a lot didn't seem to support them, the fact that they were low on ammunition and only had a few weapons, also considering they were down two men, one betrayed them while the other separated with them, things looked grim.

"Well, at least we know what we're really up against," Murray exclaimed, trying to brighten up their situation.

"Yeah, we're putting up with a dead, undead parrot who's being a real pain in the ass by saying he's still one with the team. But that doesn't really change much, does it?" Adams replied, negatively, "So _now_ what are we suppose to do?"

"We do what we said we'd do," Sly begun, "half of us will get that antidote so we can use it to cure all of those patients, while the other half makes a break for Neyla and takes a whack at Bor- I mean Arpeggio..."

"Count me in! I want some of that!" The Doberman remarked, getting back to his feet and pumping his shotgun.

"What about the werewolves?- they're all over the place," Pierce asked, picking up his revolver. "Both in- and outside of the lab, how are we gonna get across the complex area with those things out there?"

"The van." The hippo exclaimed, "We can just hop in and drive over to it, and use the chain-gun on the dogs in case they attack us..."

"Great idea," Bentley replied, impressed, "but I'll have to come with you. The system probably has a firewall to prevent unauthorized access, and I'll have to hack into it so we can move in."

"Actually, I'll do it." Penelope said, and it was more of a demand than an offering.

"I don't think that's a very good idea, I don't want you to get into any trouble, and plus your ankle..."

"Don't worry, Bentley, I think it's starting heal," the white mouse assured him, as she stood on both her legs perfectly, her walking, however, was made into a slight limp.

The turtle sighed, "Alright, you can go," he gave in.

"I'm comin' too," Fitz replied. Pierce seconded.

"Okay then, Group One; Sly, Adams and I, will make a break for Neyla, while Group Two; Murray, Penelope, Fitz and Pierce, goes for the antidote. Agreed?"

"Agreed!" They all said simultaneously.

"Good luck, big guy!" Sly wished his friend, Murray, as the hippo and the others disappeared out the door. Simultaneously, his own group left in the other direction.

* * *

**...**


	46. Chapter 46

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

* * *

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

* * *

AAI21-Borg, better known as Arpeggio artificial intelligence unit-21, turned the datacube around in his mechanical palm, at the same time watching two other androids dump Neyla's helpless and unconscious body into a cloning hibernation tube. Although Dr. Reinvar had instructed both him and Noah that once the schematics were acquired the white tigress would be submitted to a weapon, he was fortunate to convince the administrator AI not to proceed immediately, and had suggested she be placed into hibernation containment until further notice.

He studied her form, recalling what had happened back on the blimp fortress, when she betrayed him and stole his hard of work accomplishment. Though she had explained to him, when he was called "Borg," that she was not fully responsible for her actions at the time, that Clockwerk had possessed her and influenced her to proceed with the fault, and he _knew_she was not lying. A disturbing thought, actually, if the ancient, possibly immortal owl could, after death, corrupt the mind of a semi-innocent white tigress, then perhaps, even though dead now, he could still be a threat. Plus, considering this cubicle device, held in his hand, was a piece of the evil owl that was extracted from a person's mind, Clockwerk, himself, can still find a way back among the living.

Arpeggio looked at himself in the mirror, at his new machine body. This was what he wanted, right?- to have a new, mechanical body over his feeble, non-athletic form. That was what he had tried to obtain before, he wanted the Clockwerk frame because of its ability to fly, but mostly because of its immortality, but where he was today, now a servant a scientist more crazy than himself, he regretted it. He was angry and wanting revenge upon Neyla because of what she had stolen from him, but now he wished he could've thanked her back then, it was only until the year of his new life that he realized how he had been wrong about living forever, it was awful! He was nothing more than a slave to a madman, but if it had not been for Neyla, he would have been a slave to Clockwerk's programming, probably, and then he would have been traumatized as she is now about the ancient owl.

Did it really matter, now? They were both slaves... He was just another robotic counterpart, a man, correction...a parrot, turned machine. While she was made into something she didn't want to be, reincarnated into a weapon that was suppose to cause destruction. And it was all because of a operation that included Clockwerk, which they were yet again involved in.

Abruptly, a signal of an incoming aircraft was detected on the island surveillance radar, without doubt the scientist's associates whom were due to arrive and pick up the datacube. This was where his primary programming came to an end, he was to deliver the schematics to them, by hand, and then, automatically, his programming will disappear, and he would have free will, finally. All according to plan.

* * *

Miraculously, Murray, Penelope, Fitz and Pierce made it to the Team Van. At first, when the hippo had suggested they go back through the way they came in, everything thought he was insane, but fortunately, they had slipped through the sewers and made it out without seeing a single werewolf. Though it was quite difficult moving, considering Penelope limped half way before finally accepting the offer of being carried, but they were only fortunate enough to make it this far and in one piece.

Murray and Fitz mounted the front seats, buckled their seat belts, and started the engine, as the van began to hum to life. Penelope sat against the wall on the benches, she pulled off her boot and began to caress her ankle, in an attempt to heal it. All the while, Pierce detached a spare conc-rifle from the rack, slapped a magazine into it, and placed it on the bench next to her, in case she needed it, before the husky climbed up and mounted the chain-gun turret.

"Ready to go!" He announced to the driver, as the coyote slipped another clip into his revolver.

"Alright, let's rock and roll!" He remarked, Murray agreed with him and stepped on the peddle.

The Team Van/Humvee took motion and traveled across the dirt and mud, as it climbed up a hill. Penelope, leaving the gun on the bench, made her way to see through the windshield, the front of the vehicle. She pulled out her Binocucom and looked ahead of them, making observations as to what lies ahead.

She could spot nothing in sight due to the darkness, only a small, weak light up ahead. She switched the function to night vision and spotted another station, the other lab of the complex facility that contained the antidote, just fourteen kilometers away. The white mouse then changed the function to thermal vision to check if there was any creatures around that could be guarding it, and it appeared that no monster was anywhere near it.

Just when she assumed it was safe, however, something jumped on the van's left side, they all looked and spotted the canine face of a barking werewolf. It headbutted the window and barked at them, Murray panicked and tried to shake it off but it refused to let go. Finally, the coyote, armed with his revolver, pointed the weapon at the creature's face, and fired. The monster fell to the ground and off the van, as they all sighed in relief.

"Hey guys!- check _this_ out," Pierce called to them, they all looked to where the husky was pointing and found a mysterious helicopter hovering over the island, and heading for the factory they had just exited.

Questions and suspicion were aroused as to the purpose of that aircraft, and that mark on it, not the symbol of the Klaww Gang, but of some odd shape that none of them could recognize in the dark. But it wasn't important at the time, they had a job to do, they needed to get to that antidote and quick.

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**Review please, or else!**


	47. Chapter 47

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

* * *

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

**_

* * *

_**

The surveillance radar beeped again, more loudly and instantly this time, meaning the aircraft was drawing closer, nearing the helipad. All the while, Arpeggio watched as a auto-piloted cart strolled into the lab, carrying multiple holders of test tubes and vials, each one containing the horrific werewolf formula, a red liquid. The cart stopped in front of the android, as he stood next to the counter, where a briefcase lied open with many compartments to safely hold the little, glass tubes and keep them out of harm for the delivery.

One at a time, he picked up each individual vial and gently placed them into each slot of the briefcase. He closed the case as it now held forty tubes, plenty enough to create a small platoon, but the formula could be easily copied and multiplied into more monster making chemicals, so enough was ready to be delivered. He could only pray that something would come up, that something... no, _anything_ would stop this nightmarish chemical from turning everything into a monster.

Arpeggio grabbed the handle of the case and picked it up carefully, though the formula was in support and suspension, that did not mean it wasn't fragile. He turned and carried the briefcase to the large monitor screen, the datacube in his other grip, as he observed the progress of the Cooper Gang through the split screen display, which showed everyone in different parts of the complex facility.

He was quite impressed, actually, of the plan they had forumlated, of the decision to divide and conquer. Murray, Penelope, Fitz and Pierce were driving to the other factory, _Probably for the antidote_, he was sure. Sergeant Wilson was already sprinting down the corridor to the satelite cannon control room, with the intention to save his land... never had the parrot felt more ashamed of himself to let Noah do that. Finally, Sly, Bentley and Adams were... heading for him? Probably wanting to stop him from completing his primary programming, and in that case, he couldn't blame them for trying.

Noah lowered her eye down to study the sight of the divided team. The cougar was of no concern to her, he was easy to lure away, though she really _did_have a satellite cannon heating up to destroy the glaciers, she wanted to complete the program: Opportunity of Destruction, which involved any chance to wipe out the Sontarjii must be taken. However, what was most appearing to be a threat was the Humvee Van, which was driving over to the antidote containment facility, and the raccoon, turtle, and Doberman, whom were heading for this room.

"I suggest you hurry and deliver the chemicals and schematics to the Doctor's associates," she told Arpeggio, as he already headed for the helipad, "I will see to the outsiders..."

Arpeggio did _not_ like the sound of that, whatever Noah was going to do, it would mean bad news for the Cooper Gang.

* * *

Finally, Wilson burst through the doorway and scanned the satellite control room, both SMG and flamethrower aimed, in case there were any werewolves hiding around. He looked back down the corridor, spotting no potential stalkers in sight, good. And lastly, he checked his motion tracker, seeing no unidentified movement within thirty meters of his personal.

Relieved, he slapped the panel, which slid the doors shut, and approached the computer. The large monitor displayed a image of the satellite, heating up, and it was nearing maximum level and ready to fire. He rested his weapons on the counter top and began to type into the machine, searching for the abort key code on the firing. Hacking wasn't exactly a specialty of his, but he had taken classes that have involved taking software apart, piece by piece, until you found what you're looking for. It was an Interpol class to track hackers and obtain intelligence on any illegal drug trades or otherwise.

Fortunately, he found the code, selected it to the satellite cannon launch, and tapped _EXECUTE_. To his relief, the satellite cannon cooled down and the screen went blank. He had done it. He had saved the glaciers, all of the men and women he called brothers and sisters, all of those children whom he was sure would be excellent hunters, and even his father... they were all going to live another day.

Suddenly, a beep emitted on the MT, he reached for his SMG... but not soon enough. A werewolf dropped from the ceiling and swatted his guns away, it then swiped at him, while he managed to roll off the chair a catch his feet on the floor. Here he was again, in a tight spot, only this time, he didn't have his tribe to protect, he had only himself to save now.

* * *

Closing in on their position, Sly and Adams sprinted down the hall, Bentley, holding on tight, was becoming annoyed with being tied to a person back and forced to hold on like a common satchel. But what was he to do? Without his wheelchair he was completely immobile... unless, of course, he crawled the whole way.

The turtle kept his focus on the motion tracker and map, making sure they were on the right trail. Although, he was concerned for his dear Penelope, and his friend Murray. Both should be outside by now, and sure enough, both were reaching trouble. But he needed to focus, he shouldn't think of it now, if he wanted everyone he cared about to get through this, then he would need to focus and lead them to the laboratory to rescue Neyla.

Without warning, an alarm and lights began to screech extremely loud, which made them stop and cover their ears. It was the only way to protect themselves from going death. Before they could move out of the way, several walls of lasers dropped down and caged them. But that wasn't all, for the MT began to detect movement as the contacts revealed themselves, all of them creeping closer to laser cage, where the three delicious kills could do nothing more than watch them, helpless, as the werewolves began to crowd and surround the cage. It was a trap!

* * *

Upon reaching the other station, Murray quickly stomped on the breaks and parked the van to a halt, only five meters from collision with the steel wall. The hippo jumped out of the driver's seat, simultaneously to when Fitz kicked the back door open, carrying Penelope by his side with the conc-rifle, and ran into the light, in front of the security door. Pierce stayed mounted on the chain-gun turret of the Humvee, watching for any approaching hostiles that are surely on their way.

The coyote stopped in front of the door's terminal and gently positioned the white mouse in front of it, just as the hippo joined them. Penelope stood on her own, with Murray and Fitz watching her back, as she pulled out the laptop again. She opened the lid of the terminal, spliced a cord with the collection of blue wires, and began to rapidly type into the keyboard of the portable computer.

"I'm not one hundred percent sure I can hack through this, so this could take a while," Penelope explained, "Watch my back, okay?"

"Uh... Penelope," she heard Murray ask, without turning her head away from the laptop screen, "you might wanna hurry it up a little, 'cause we've got company."

With that, the white mouse spun her attention to spy an untold number of creatures, all of which were heading in their direction. She turned back to her work and tried to advance the process, otherwise, this would be her last adventure... Along with everyone else's for that matter.

* * *

Meanwhile, the helicopter's arrival had cleared dust off of the helipad, uncovering the large "H" that was hidden underneath it all. Arpeggio stood motionless and watching by the door, the datacube and briefcase in hands, as the aircraft hovered over the landing pad and finally touched the pavement. It powered down but the repellors continued to rotate, noting that this was a short stop, there was really no need to power down completely.

The android started up the ramp and found three regular wolves, all of which were dressed in black jumpsuits and masks, along their cloth markings were the all too familiar symbol of the Blue Vipers. Two of the goons stood guard by the chopper, both carrying mysterious weapons that, thanks to the dark, were hard to identify. And the third single wolf, acting as an ambassador towards him, simply approached him.

"The forumla?" The boss wolf asked, both his hands eager and twitchy to hold something.

Arpeggio presented the handle of the briefcase to him and delivered it, watching as the wolf snatched it immediately and opened it to inspect the products. He nodded to himself in thought, closed the case, and hung it by his left hand, as he looked back at the machine.

"And the schematics?" He asked, holding out his hand and took the datacube from the android. "Tell your Professor his employers will be pleased with this," he instructed, turned, and hopped back onto the helicopter, followed by his two comrades.

While the chopper readied to take off, Arpeggio turned back and headed inside. He had done it. He had finally, at long last, completed his primary programming... The very thing that held him down. And now, nothing could stop him, nothing could hold him down anymore. Now... He was free.

**

* * *

**

**Anyway, any questions? Comments? Etc.?**


	48. Chapter 48

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

* * *

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

* * *

Things looked grim for them, now that they were cornered into a wall with limited ammunition, Murray was the first one to believe it was all over for their adventures. Penelope's fingers danced along the keyboard as face as she could breathe, the knowledge that their lives depended on her hacking the terminal was not exactly the pressure she needed at the moment, but now that she was panicking mentally, it only made things more complicated to concentrate on their objective. Pierce didn't bother taking the time to aim, the husky simply squeezed the trigger on the Humvee turret and fired electric bolts of stun rounds out into the dark, watching as their independent lights lit up the woods around them. Fitz, finally, kept his footing and stance firmly stable on the grass as he sprayed fifteen bullets per second of armor-piercing rounds out at every moving shadow, cursing at them.

The werewolves advanced, some coming into sight while some continued to hide into the shadows, waiting until they found the best approach that would take their prey down. Given the rate and amount of firing that they were setting off, they would be out of ammo soon, and they could finally move in.

After several rounds in this two-man line of fire, Fitz's conc-rifle unfortunately jammed in the middle of his magazine capacity. With no longer and use for the weapon, considering it would take him a while to take the gun apart to unjam the damn thing, and also considering the fact that they had only a few seconds before the creatures came into sight, he ditched the weapon and pulled out his duel pistols. With each one loaded in a single hand, he fired in the direction that indicated moving shadows.

Pierce had obtained a headache after the continuous firing of the turret, and he felt as if he had just gone deaf. He was taken off guard as a werewolf leaped and landed on the roof of the Team Van, right in front of him, and barked. He disengaged from the chain-gun and leaped off the roof to avoid becoming the next kill of the beast. He landed with the other three, only a single revolver armed in his hand. The husky stood against the wall and fired at the creature with three shots. One missed, but the other two had knocked it clear off the vehicle.

The four of them stood cornered to the walls, without another escape route or option to take. There was no where else to go, and they were out of time. The creatures came closer, barking and howling at the upcoming kill, and to the pirate commandos' surprise, they began to... _whine_?

Using the light of the lanterns all around the station entrance, they all could spot much smaller, tiny insects crawling all over their forms, while they attempted to scratch and bite them off. But this mysterious pests proved too tough much for them, and as they whined and attempted to roll over and shake them off. No good.

The four were quite bewildered and astonished by these tiny and sudden allies that were distracting and pestering the werewolves, they never noticed the fifth person, as he strolled by and stood beside them, hands behind back, and watched the sight. They all looked at the familiar face and were surprised immediately at the smiling mug of the rodent, Frederick Opossum.

"Hey'a Freddy!" Fitz welcomed, turning his gaze away from the dancing creatures, "Where've yuh been all dis time?"

"Oh, you would not believe what I was just through," the rodent informed them, "you met the colony?"

"Colony?" Penelope repeated.

"Yeah, the colony of Howler ants. They kidnapped me, enslaved me, and after all the time of hauling in big rocks over my back, before I knew it, I was one of their colony. Says so from the Queen herself..."

"What? That doesn't really make perfect sense."

"It didn't to me either, but I just decided to go along with it, and what do you know?-- now we have a whole colony of allies. I'll gladly introduce you all to them if you'd like."

"Thank you for the offer, but maybe later," Penelope concluded, turning back to the terminal and began to rapidly type into the system again.

* * *

After delivering the chemicals and schematics, Arpeggio reentered the laboratory, where Noah's eye was fixated on every camera screen in the complex facility. At the moment, two out of three groups of outsiders were right where she wanted them. Captain Sly Cooper and two of his allies were trapped within a laser cage, with several specimens waiting outside the cage, and Sergeant Wilson was now engaged in combat with a single specimen, meaning it would test their close-combat capabilities.

However, it was the third group of outsiders that had her anxiety, for a machine. The specimens appeared to be infested and overrun by the tiny organisms of Howlers' Island. Perhaps it was not smart to allow the intelligence enhancement formula to be spilled through the soil, after all, it would appear any organism could be easily mutated by chemicals, thus includes the native ants. But what was most confusing was that the insects had never interfered with the Professor's projects. Why had they suddenly decided to attack prized specimens such as the werewolves--and now?

The admin AI rotated her red eye to meet with the parrot in an android's body, "Unit two-one, have you delivered the products to the Professor's associates?"

"Yes..." He replied, slight deviousness visible in his voice. "Indeed, I have..."

"Very good." Noah replied, rotating to face the white tigress clone, still floating within the cloning tube. "Now then, we shall begin mind reprogramming for the clone specimen and begin-"

She never got the chance to finish that sentence, her words interrupted with instant static that made her red eye begin to blink repeatedly, as if the system had a bug in it. What she hadn't noticed behind her, when she had looked away from the android, was that Arpeggio had plugged his own wiring into the back of the sphere and uploaded his personal computer virus.

"Sorry, Noah," he apologized to the AI, "but I have completed my primary programming, and I no longer take orders from you _or_ the Professor. I have other plans to attend to, for I am loyal to my own employers, so I will be relieving you of duty."

Without a second warning, Noah's red eye faded and fell black, and was soon replaced with a blue light, Arpeggio's eye. With the AI no longer in service, he had taken her place, he had become the new administrator... The entire complex facility, everything on the island, was now under his control.

* * *

**Read and Review, please!**


	49. Chapter 49

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

* * *

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

* * *

The Blue Viper helicopter took the sky once again, and was plotting its destination away from Howlers' Island, and to their own leader, who was patiently awaiting their arrival for the Clockwerk schematics. The boss on the chopper, with the datacube in hand, smiled underneath his mask. Soon a new world order, or whatever it was that their employers wanted with this cube, would soon be achieved. Meaning there was going to be a handsome bonus in it for him and his associates on the pick-up job.

Without warning, a loud, deafening _bang!_ emitted, and the chopper began to shift and sway from one direction to the other, as if it was losing its hold in the air. The warning sirens, which directed everyone to brass for impact, was never heard, for they all had lost their ability to hear anything anymore. And there was nothing they could to as the helicopter finally lost altitude and began to dive down and crash into the woods.

At the factory's arms system, through the optimizer and targeting system, Arpeggio would have smiled if he had lips. Now that he had become the new administrator of the complex facility, he had control over everything. The combat androids, the containment locks and doors, and including the surface-to-air missle launchers, the first thing he needed to assure was that the formula and schematics never fell into the wrong hands. So he shot the chopper out of the sky. Now that that was over with, he needed to assure the safety of the others.

* * *

They did nothing but watch the werewolves howl and whine as they practically scratched their own fur coats off, trying to free themselves of the untold itchy insects that had swarmed them. There was no escape from the invasion of these super intelligent ants, that they could progress and accept, but confused at what motives or reasons they had for assault them. Even Penelope, among everyone else, was bewildered and dumbstruck by this behavior. Why it only attacked the creatures, and why it didn't even take a second glance at they themselves, was utterly cryptic, perhaps Freddy, the dimwit of a rodent, might have made allies with them. It seemed like a stupid conclusion to jump to, but what else could she use to make a hypothesis to this mystery?

Abruptly, the entrance blast doors of the secondary station right behind them opened up, they spun around to find a squad of combat androids, all armed with tranquilizer launchers. They all lifted their guard, ready to fight them if need be, but were struck with confusion as they watched the robots sprint pass the group and take aim at the creatures.

They watched as syringe darts, one at a time, were launched from their tranq-rifles and shot at the werewolves. Each of the dogs were pierced in the skin by a single dart, the chemical within the syringe was injected within their bloodstreams. Bit by bit, the creatures all began to look more sluggish and tired, as if worn out after a long, nightmarish year of endless hunting, and began to slump to the ground. The ants completed covered their bodies, until none of the thieves or androids could seem them anymore.

"Wait!" Penelope began to protest, worried of the citizens that were only victim to being the monsters they were. "Freddy, don't kill them..."

"If you say-so," the rodent replied, and pushed past the line of androids to began to wave his hands at the insects, "Okay, hey! You can stop it now... That'll do!... You can release them all now, they surrender!"

Amazed, all the other pirates' and thieves' mouthes dropped as the insects complied with the possum's request and began to break away from the werewolves.

"What'da hell?" Fitz said, glancing between Freddy and the ants, "Dey really understand a word yuh say and comply wit it?"

"Yeah, isn't the colony great?" Replied Freddy with a big grin on his face.

They turned back and watched as the ants cleared the creatures, only to find that they were not longer the Folklore monsters they were before, but simple canine people. They were all men and women, now lying helpless and unconscious on the ground, completely emptied of their werewolf features. They were all cured.

Penelope looked over to the androids now, all of which were armed with tranq-rifles. Before they were armed with plasma weapons and tried to capture, and even kill them. Why were they suddenly holding tranquility launchers, loaded with what she believed was the antidote? Were they on their side now? She wanted answers and she wanted them now, but unfortunately, she was going to have to wait for them to arrive. Obviously, someone is surely their ally.

* * *

Sly, Bentley and Adams stood ready for the laser cage to deactivate, ready to take on these werewolves and, if they were defeated, just meet their fate and be done with it already. The monsters circled and rotated around the cage, locking their eyes, gazing and hungry, with their prey. Why couldn't Noah just get this over with, already? She should just stop taunting them with circling creatures and delaying the world of pain that they were about to endure.

Without warning, four other blast doors slid open and at least twenty combat androids appeared with tranq-rifles. Before the creatures could all turn to face them, every last one of them was pelted with syringes, the antidote injected in all of the creatures, and they all slumped to the floor.

Before their eyes, the menacing features, the dark fur, the teeth and claws all retracted and vanished. Soon all they found lying on the white-tiled floor were bodies of unconscious and unfortunate subjects in the weapons program.

After wards, the laser cage disappeared, and they all cautiously stepped forward, keeping their guard up when around the now motionless androids. Adams kept his shotgun leveled and pointed, in case even one of them tried anything funny.

"Well Bentley, what do you think of this?" Sly asked, as he and his friend, still strapped to his back, looked down to the normal form of a dog.

"If I had to guess, I'd say they've been cured of the werewolf formula..."

"Yeah... but how?"

"That would be _my_ doing," Arpeggio answered, his blue eye appeared on a overhead screen. "I do apologize for not seeming as much aid in the past hours when I was needed, but I had some things to relieve myself of."

"Okay Arpeggio, no more secrets and no more games," the raccoon warned him, "Now what is all of this about?"

"Do not worry, Mr. Cooper, I will explain myself, but there is one more thing I must do at the moment. If you just follow down this corridor you will reach the laboratory where dear Neyla is being held."

"Before we do, tell us exactly what it is you're really doing at the moment." Bentley demanded.

"Why, rescuing your friend, Mr. Wilson, of course..."

* * *

Speaking of Wilson, the cougar dodged another swipe of the werewolf's strike, leaping over to the side and tried to reach for his SMG or flamethrower. But he couldn't even get close enough to them--the monster saw to that. With one misstep of an avoiding maneuver, the Sergeant ended up caught by the throat, as the creature held him off his feet and examined him close up.

It growled and bared its teeth, and barked at its captured prey. Wilson did nothing more than close his eyes, and allowed only one thought to cross his mind. The name of his love, whom he felt as if he had failed; Neyla.

"Excuse me," called a familiar voice. The werewolf turned its head, the cougar opened an eye, and spotted the same, so-called "helpful" android, armed with a tranq-launcher attached to his wrist. "That will be all Mister Sawyer, I have found a loophole in your contract."

_Sawyer?--Johnny?_ The werewolf barked and tossed the Sergeant against the wall, and then started for the machine. However, before it could make it past one step, a dart punctured its shoulder, and it immediately fell to the floor. The last incarcerated beast had been cured.

All the while, Wilson felt cold suddenly, strangely. He placed a weak, shaking hand on the back of his head and felt some wet, thick liquid. He feared the worst. He withdrew his hand and studied it with half closed eyes. His hand was blood-stained, and before he could process another thought, he blacked out.

* * *

**...**


	50. Chapter 50

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

* * *

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

* * *

Though cautious and on the lookout for the slightest hint of treachery, Sly, Bentley, and Adams sauntered down the corridor, following the racing lights that were leading him to another mystery, with many questions on their minds. What was all this about? What had become of Neyla?--and what was Arpeggio up to now? The parrot could easily plot a lie and trick to fool them, and surely lead them to their dooms, but for some reason, they suspected that he didn't want to kill them. If he did, he would have saw to it that it had happened when the subjects were monsters, and where stalking, waiting for them to be in the open. It was the perfect time and yet, he didn't allow that to happen.

Upon reaching the foot of a blast door, that stood at the end of the final corridor, it slid open immediately, and the raccoon and Doberman instantly raised and pointed their weapons forward. No one inside, just the laboratory scene of that of a mad scientist. As if Dr. Frankenstein himself had left his office to attend to other matters.

Cautiously, they took their slow steps into the lab, watching for anything of a trap or danger. There was nothing that determined or revealed such a thing, but they kept their guard up, without getting distracted. Though they found nothing of the sorts that declared a trap and still being very cautious and suspicious about all of this, Bentley found some technological interest in the mechanics and multicolored chemicals placed all around the room, on top of counters.

Finally, it was Adams who stopped in front of a large, Plexiglas cylinder, a cloning tube, containing a limply floating body within the blue liquid. Sly released the straps around his torso and gently rested Bentley on a stool, and then stood beside the Doberman to study the body. _Probably one of Dr. Reinvar's soldier cloning programs_, they thought, it was a dead give away with the silver shoulder pads, bracelets, anklets, steel net coveralls of the entire body, and even the menacing mask over the clone's face detailed to be made for war. Yet, there were other details to the warrior, the striped limbs, back and tail, feminine-like features... This wasn't just some random clone, it was that of a white tigress. It was Neyla.

"Neyla?" Sly guessed, "Bentley, can you get her out of that tank?"

The turtle directed his rolling stool, pulling himself along the edges of the following counters, towards a nearby computer. He stopped and sat before the monitor, "I think so... But I'll have to be very careful while-"

His sentence was interrupted by shotgun fire, as Adams had shot into the tube, in an angle to where it created a hole to drain the liquid, but also to where it didn't harm the white tigress. The impact of the round shattered the glass, which also caused the liquid to splash over him and the raccoon. As they stood there, trenched, Neyla's form lied helplessly on the platform of the tube.

"Or, I guess that' works too," Bentley finished, while Sly climbed onto the platform and bent down beside the white tigress. He lifted her up by her shoulders, removing the armored mask, and studied her slumbing facial features.

"Neyla?" He spoke her name, lightly patting her on the cheek, "Neyla, wake up... It's Sly..."

Finally, an eyelid slowly slid open, and she groaned and propped herself up, "Who?... Wha-?..." She mumbled, trying to center her thoughts. "Where am I?"

"You're safe now," the raccoon assured her. She blinked at glanced at him.

"Sly?- Wha- what's going on?" She asked, wobbling as she recollected herself to her feet, "I feel like someone robbed my brain..."

"What do you mean?"

"I... don't know?" Neyla replied, placing her hand on her forehead and tried to remember what had happened. She couldn't stop wobbling, why couldn't she support herself? -and where is Jack? "Everything feels like a blur after I woke up in the lab. Right before Borg zapped me, or something..."

"Are you okay, you seem a little... slow and dull," Bentley described.

"I- I'm just tired is all," she excused, attempting to walk without Sly's assistance, yet she couldn't help but wobble continuously. "What's going on? What happened?"

"We'll explain later," the raccoon told her, helping her once again to maintain her stance, "but let's get back to the _Gallantry_ first."

"So soon?" Replied an all too familiar voice, "Aren't you forgetting something?- Like what we came here for..."

They all spun around to fing Borg, no... Arpeggio, standing beside two automatic-piloted stretchers, both carrying an unconscious body.

Adams immediately pointed his gun at the android, "You back-stabbing piece of **S**uper-**H**ighly **I**ntelligent **T**echnology," he barked, leveling his shotgun with the machine's head.

"Now, now... Mr. Adams, there's no need for violence," he assured him, knowing it would take more than that to convince them. "I was never plotting to kill you. If I was I would have done so before. I am on your side."

"Give us a good reason not to let Adams have his way," Sly told him, "Prove it."

"If you suggest so, if I was against you, then I wouldn't have saved the lives of these two gentlemen you all know so well," he motioned to the stretchers, which strolled closer to them while Arpeggio didn't make a move.

"Hey, it's Johnny," the Doberman mentioned, studying at the young wolf.

"And Jack!" Neyla seconded, observing the concussed Sergeant, his head wrapped in bandages. She broke away from Sly and stood over the stretcher, lying a gentle palm on the cougar's cheek. She glared at Arpeggio, "What did you do to him?"

"I saved him. And just in time, too," Arpeggio said in his defense, "young Sawyer here was about to make short work out of him in the satellite control room, and if I hadn't arrived, he wouldn't be here now."

Though quite uncertain with the AI parrot's logic, the tone of his sophisticated voice was without doubt that he was telling them the truth. But there wasn't a chance any of them would let their guards down, not after what they had all just endured. He could have altered and manipulated his voice to sound completely honest and stable. There was something else, however, regarding to the treasure locked within the secured vault, of which they had arrived to obtain. Was there something special in there that Arpeggio wanted them to have? Though their curiosity was not nearly tempting them enough to blind them, it was surely something they needed to know about.

* * *

**If you're all wondering about what's coming up in the next chapter, here's a clue: If you read Mummy's Curse, then you'll understand what's going on.**

**Review please, or else!**


	51. Chapter 51

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

* * *

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

**_

* * *

_**

With the agreement official, all of the team reformed and separated again, one team, led by Murray, rode in the Team Van to carry the Sergeant, Sawyer, and all of the other unfortunate victims back to the _Gallantry_, where they would be treated of their wounds. However, back-and-forth trips were made to collect of the survivors. Neyla had chosen to assist the gathering team after Wilson had been delivered to the ship, she needed something to occupy herself while she waited for him to awaken. Fitz and Adams, mentally collapsing from exhaustion, hitched a ride back to the ship to get some R&R, this entire ordeal they had endured made them both want to take some aspirin and fall flat-face on their hammocks. Pierce, also, had accompanied the trip back, he recalled that his friend, Jenkins, was still in the infirmary, and he needed to check on his status.

All the while, as the sun rose once again to shine its light upon the island, Sly, Bentley, Penelope and Freddy stayed in the station to see what this was all about. They followed Arpeggio down the elevator and into the basement, where the vault was. No one said a word as they passed the bloody, torn apart body of Julius Black, which was being carried away by two other androids. They didn't think about what would become of the crocodile's body, whether the machines were going to dispose of it or experiment with it, the very sight of all that blood was sickening to the stomach, too much to bare the very least.

Bentley rolled beside the raccoon in his wheelchair, which by some dumb luck that it had not been destroyed or damaged in any way when it had been took from him by the beasts, as they all followed the android to the blast seal door.

Arpeggio approached the vault, standing motionless before it, as if he was admiring its smooth, silver metal build. He resumed motion by waving a hand towards the camera, displaying a signal to the computer he was now in charge of. The door blinked and changed color, the red lights switching to blue, and the vault divided and opened a path for which they could enter. The parrot AI turned to the group of thieves and held out his hands in a gesture as in to welcome one into ones home. Sly stepped forward, passing him as if not caring if he was invited, and entered the vault, while his companions followed suit.

* * *

Meanwhile, back on the _Gallantry_, Neyla sat on a stool in the infirmary, next to the med-bed where Sergeant Wilson lay. Pierce stood over Jenkins, fist-bumping with the still wounded ocelot and begun to tell him what had happened on this horrifying night. Sawyer was resting, after waking up from the nightmare that he had endured for so long, it was great to finally wake up. Adams entered the room, out of his armor and now dressed in casual ship clothes, and stood beside the white tigress to glance at the Sergeant, unsure what to think.

At the moment, she hadn't realized he had been next to him, she was too transfixed with her gaze upon Wilson, the bandages wrapped around his head. There was some blood stained on the back of his cranium, his facial expression showed a hard, knocking headache of pain, while he lied unconsciously on the mattress.

The Doberman felt a little uncomfortable with just standing there, as if he was looking into the coffin of the Sergeant. That very thought made him slightly ill, suddenly. He glanced at Neyla, unsure what to say in order to ease her despair, and then he just... guessed.

"Well, I bet that was some blow to the head," he remarked, Neyla looked up to him, anxious, "Maybe it might do him a favor and knock some sense into 'em. Then maybe he won't play the dare devil role any more."

She smiled, and he really didn't know why, "Thanks, I needed that Adams," she told him, and then looked back at the cougar. She was hesitating, from what Adams could decipher, and then she finally spoke. "Adams, when you, Sly and Bentley came to my rescue, why wasn't he with you?"

"Huh?"

Neyla made eye contact with him, "When Arpeggio brought him and Sawyer unconscious, he said he was in the satellite control room. Why wasn't he with you?"

Adams remained silent for a moment, quite lost in this situation. What was he suppose to say? Comforting someone while they were in despair was out of his usual routine, normally Fitz or Freddy would cover and tie up that end. But she wasn't asking for comfort, she was asking for truth, so he took a long breath to gather his thoughts, and began to speaking honesty.

"It was a bit of a tight situation after we all regrouped," he told her, "Noah showed her mug and offered the Sarge some twisted agreement. She threatened his glaciers or whatever and made him choose between which he should save first; the Glaciers or you. He choose the glaciers and ran off to stop the satellite thingamajig from blowing the place up or something, and so we made the plan to split up and save you ourselves."

Neyla seemed surprised, actually stunned. She looked back at the cougar's resting form and a tear, filled with anger, broke loose and ran down her cheek. She couldn't believe this, Wilson had chosen the Sontarjii Glaciers over her, when the time came to save only one, he had chosen to save the Glaciers and leave her. She felt this deep, terrible feeling knifing at her heart, a feeling she had not felt a long time ago, ever since her parents abandoned her... Betrayal.

* * *

Meanwhile, back in the complex facility vault, Sly took three more steps before stopping in the middle of the room. Bentley rolled in and stopped by his side, along with Murray, Penelope, Dimitri, Freddy and Arpeggio, as the lights came to life and revealed... the treasure. All around them, many piles of gold, jewels, and other priceless items surrounded their post in the vault. Each piece of gold shined with well polished age, each jewel had a glaze to attract light, and one piece of it all, one glorious artifact in the center of it all, just before them. It was the most outstanding piece yet, it stood out from the other golden treasures because it was so bizarre... it was an Egyptian Canopic Burial Jar.

Out of all of them, Dimitri's attention was more fixated to the pile of gold, as he dove into it and began to awe at all of the fancy treasures. Freddy joined him as Murray simply watched and observed all of the other shining pieces all around. All the while, Sly picked up the Jar to study it, Bentley and Penelope stood on his side and observed the interesting urn. Arpeggio stood at his other side and waited for a response or comment from them.

"What is this?" Sly asked, turning the Jar to get a look at it from all points, eying the Anubis figure head on its lid.

"It's a Canopic Jar," Bentley answered, "it was used by the Egyptians in the process of mummification, in which they cut out a person's organs and place them in these."

"So, this thing's suppose to hold someone's organs? That's a little sickening."

"Maybe, but the Egyptians believed it to be quite effective in reanimating the dead." The turtle concluded, "What I'm intrigued about is its presence and reasons for being involved in Captain Algernon's treasure. He probably stole from the Egyptians, which would explain why an ankh was found on Cache Isle. But then there was that note he left behind in the tomb, speaking of a mysterious relic. _This_ must be it... the relic of great importance."

"So Algernon was concerned for a Jar that contains a body organ?"

"No, Algernon was concerned for a bunch of Jars that contained body organs," Bentley corrected, a grin formed in his lips. "Looks like we found out what those black jars on the Seeker's Scroll were about."

"And there's more," Sly added, "we found out what a lot of this crazy stuff is all about. The Klaww Gang getting involved, the bio-weapons program, all of this and what we'll probably run into in the future will have something to do with this." He held out the Canopic Jar in plain sight, it gold textures shining in the light.

"What about the helicopter that passed earlier?" Penelope asked, looking at Arpeggio, "Who were they and what were they hear for?"

"Who they were were associates of Dr. Reinvar, I never had an interest to seek identification," he admitted, "but they came for a briefcase with many capsules of the werewolf formula and schematics for a powerful weapon. But never worry, the helicopter was shot down as soon as it took to the air, and both the people and products are mostly likely destroyed. They will never be placed into the wrong hands again."

"Are you sure?"

"Nearly one hundred percent."

"Okay, I guess that means we have what we need from here," Sly said, "but I have one question: Why didn't you tell any of us about any of this; about who you are and what was going on?"

"Because if I told you back in the bar none of you would trust me, and all I want anymore is to work and begin this new life as an android. I couldn't tell you about Howlers' operations because my program forbid me from doing so, and I wanted to make things convince so that once my programming was erased I could delete Noah and take over the station, and finally put an end to all of this. I do apologize for everything that has happened, and all I ask is that you forgive me," the android extended his mechanical hand to him, "and that I continue to serve as a crew member aboard your vessel."

They all hesitated and then it was the raccoon who smiled, "Alright, but no more secrets from us, under any cercumstances."

"Done." And then they shook hands. "So, Captain Cooper, shall we load our cargo and plan out our next destination?"

"Not yet," he replied, eying the Jar, "there's one stop we need to make first."

**

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**

Anyway, any questions? Comments? Etc.?


	52. Chapter 52

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

* * *

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

* * *

After lying in a concussion that seemed to last for hours, Sergeant Wilson took a better feel for his surroundings and surface as he finally began to wake up. He felt sore in every muscle in his body, his head was pounding unbelievably, and he could remember very little that had happened since the last time he was conscious. He was fighting one of those werewolves and... he was caught, thrown against the wall and knocked out, and then someone showed up and incapacitated the creature, or something.

His eyelid slowly slid open, finding familiar faces all around his bed in the infirmary. He found Cooper leaned against the wall, his hat in his hand. Bentley and Penelope were talking in whispering voices next to him. Neyla was in the back of the room, her head lowered, her face hidden underneath her long, raven hair. And he also saw Adams and Freddy closest to his bed, and what annoyed him, their conversation was heard.

"...And this one's name is Jerad, and this one's Bridgette, and this one's Bond; James Bond..." the rodent was introducing his ant colony to Adams, specifically pointing at each individual insect that crawled through the dirt tunnels of the container, going about their own business. "...And this beautiful little thing in the egg chamber is the Queen, Her Royal Highness..."

"And what did you name her?" The Doberman asked, bored out of his mind.

"Oh, I normally just call her 'My Queen' and 'Majestic', but I named her Debby," Freddy smiled stupidly, and Adams sighed.

"And I normally just call you retarded."

At the sound of the Sergeant's groan and return to consciousness, they all spun around and glanced at the cougar, sighs of relief where heard as Wilson propped himself on his elbows. "Am I dead?" He asked, rubbing his forehead.

"Nope," Adams begun, "You're in hell... Welcome back Sarge." He patted him on the cougar on the back, who grimaced in response at the pain. "Oops, sorry."

"Don't sweat it," Wilson assured him, "Anything happen while I was out?"

"Yeah, quite a bit actually," Sly exclaimed, returning his hat on his head and tapped his fist against the Sergeant's. "We all split up to get another chance at getting out of this mess, finally came to the conclusion of what we're after all along and what all of this was about coming here. Borg turns out to be Arpeggio, which we thought was a problem, but it turned out to be him who had saved all our skins, saved all the test subjects, and saved the operation, and had left all of us wanting to throw ourselves to bed with an aspirin."

"The usual crap, huh?" The Sergeant replied, caressing his bandages.

"Yes," Bentley replied, rolling in front of him as he sat up. "But we made it out alive... most of us at least."

"Will there be a pyre?"

"Yes," the turtle exclaimed, praying silently, "but the good news is we've found out what we're looking for, and most of the test subjects, including Johnny, were all saved. We'll be stopping at the nearest port, where we suspect they were kidnapped from to begin with. Anything else you want to know?"

The Sergeant shook his head, "No, just let me know when that pyre begins. I wanna be there when it's lit."

"You got it, old friend," Sly replied, as Bentley, Penelope, and himself exited the infirmary, allowing him to gain a bit of rest after the ordeal they all had endured.

Wilson stood up and looked all around, spotting the boy, Sawyer, resting on another med bed, wrapped up in blankets to supply warmth. He found Pierce and Jenkins too, they were talking in near silent voices and going about their own business. Freddy lost interest in his waking up and was watching the ants of his ant farm as he leaned against a counter.

Then there was Neyla, who looked up to lock her gaze with him, her eyes appeared to be drenched with remnants of tears. He would have smiled if she didn't look hurt, as if in despair or depression. He passed Adams and approached her, slowly as if not to grow over-excited by her safety. He had missed her, he was so concerned for her life, so worried and fearing the worst, it took all of his mental strength to restrain himself from running and wrapping his arms around her, just to cradle her and pray thanks to the Lord Almighty.

But instead of making the idea real, Wilson only stood before her, while she simply looked at him with her emerald eyes. Eyes filled with despair, doubt, and what he could see, the feeling of betrayal.

"Neyla..." he called her name so silently that it sounded like a whisper to her.

The white tigress only looked at him and remained silent and motionless, only a small quiver of her bottom lip as she lifted her head.

"Neyla, y-you're safe..." he said, his eyes already beginning to swim as he reached out to hold her in his arms. But she didn't let him, she backed away from his outstretched arms and kept her gaze firm.

"Why do you bother, Jack?" She asked him, as if she was hissing at him like a threatened rattle snake.

"Wha-? I was scared," he told her, "worried for you..."

"Were you worried about me--or your homeland?"

The question rather surprised Wilson, stopping him in his tracks as his smile faded. "What do you mean by that?"

"When the time came to choose something you wanted to save, you chose against me," she exclaimed, her tears beginning to run down her cheeks.

"It- it wasn't my fault," Wilson said in his defense, "the AI was trying to judge me and made me play a sick game with her, to choose between the two things I love."

"Love?" She snorted, shaking her head as her tears still ran, "I don't see how you could love me--if you risked _my_ life to save your glaciers."

"The homeland comes first..." He remarked and said nothing else, only to receive a slap across his face. It stunned him as he turned back to look at Neyla, whose tears had begun to pour now, while her anger revealed itself at high.

"What we have--what we _had_--is _over_..." she told him, in blind fury, "I never wanna speak to you again!" And with that, she stormed out of the infirmary, while Wilson stood stiff and still as a statue, overwhelmed by what had just happened.

Never had he felt anything like this, before it was the thrill of an adventure and the joy of being with the person he cared the most about, but now, it was emptiness. He felt a crack inside him, a crack--and then a shatter. His heart, his bold, strong-willed heart, was broken. He was surprised at himself for not yet falling underneath the immense weight that was tumbling all over him, to shocked to notice everyone had been watching this, or that anyone, like Adams, had left the infirmary. He thought he could risk himself and be able to save everyone, so that everything would be okay, but it was so. For the first time in many years, J. B. Wilson collapsed.

* * *

Neyla stomped out of the room, not caring if she had hurt him, not caring if that soldier of fortune, that crazy adventure seeker was in pain. She just wanted to get as far away from him as possible. She couldn't understand him anymore, understand his decisions. He just has to play the big hero, the man who will sacrifice everything to save the world. Well she had it with him, she had ended their relationship together and was walking away victorious. Never again, she hoped, will she ever share any emotion with Wilson. But for some odd reason, she didn't feel an inch of proud inside of her, and she wondered why.

"You are such a bitch!" Remarked an angry voice behind her. The white tigress turned to find Adams, just leaving the infirmary. The remarked actually surprised her. He had been something close to a complete jerk before, but now speaking to her in this tone, it was new and bizarre all the same.

"Excuse me," Neyla replied to him, eager and anxious to hear what the Doberman had to say.

"You heard me... The guy worries with every drop of sweat and blood over you and you leave him for it," replied the Doberman.

"He betrayed me, Adams," she hissed, "he said he loved me and he turned away from me to save his mountains."

"Exactly _how_ is that betraying you?" He asked, "He wanted to save his homeland, which holds a lot of innocent people there who would have been killed, and I think you should understand that thousands of lives shouldn't be sacrificed just to save one. Wilson taught me that himself.

"Even though things worked out, if he had made a break for you, all of those Eskimos would have been murdered by that satellite laser. Don't you see that? If something happened to either _you_ or _his tribe_, it would have killed him on the inside.

"But I bet you would want that, don't you?-- for the Sarge to lose his homeland and everyone he called family killed in a hell storm just to save _you_. And if that's the case, then you're just plain selfish!"

Neyla was stunned by what Adams had told him, and she knew it to be true. No longer did she feel proud by what she had done, now she felt cold. After just recently learning what Wilson had done, she had been thinking of herself at the time, and hadn't thought about the many lives that were also on the line besides her own. Now knowing that there were others besides herself, she began to feel awful, cold, and heartless. As if she had just stabbed herself in the back for a change, and she could feel herself bleeding in a brokenheart.

"So I hope you're happy with your final move, Neyla, because it seems the only one who really did any damage was you, and I wouldn't be surprised if you shed a tear or not," Adams concluded, and walked away, leaving her only the remnants of his hard, disapproving look.

After his conclusion and explanation, she fell back against the wall and slid down until she was seated on the floor, lost in her thoughts. Wilson was only trying to do the right thing--and it usually meant you had to sacrifice what you wanted. Never had she felt like.... such a bitch, she had been so cruel to him and broke his heart, and just left him to clean up the ashes. _What have I done?_ She thought, two more rivers of tears escaped and trailed down her cheeks, as she wrapped her arms around her legs, resting her chin on her knees.

_Maybe she can fix this_, she thought of it, _maybe she could just run back into the infirmary, wrap her arms around him and just forgive him, and prayed that he did the same_.

_No_. She couldn't do that, not after what she had just said to him. It just wouldn't be right, and it was just too late. The damage was done, and as much as she would like to rewind time and just accept his first hug, resting her head in his shoulder as he cradled her like always, it was all a distant memory now. Never would she forgive herself for such a thing, even in her reincarnation she hadn't changed, no matter how much she believed. _Oh, Jack..._she wept in her mind, and buried her face in her hands, no longer restraining the tears.

* * *

**To _dazzlemebetch_: Yeah, there should be two more chapters after this one. Why? Are you anxious for this story to be over? lol.**

**To _slylady345_: From the looks of things, it's a good chance to unfortunately be yes.**

**Read and Review, please!**


	53. Chapter 53

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

* * *

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

* * *

All the while as the sun rose and cast its ray of light, as if it were the sight of the Lord coming to inspect those below the heavens, a pyre was being made. Many of the dead trees were cut down and chopped into smaller pieces, and each half a dozen or so of logs were fashioned into a death bed. As those of a funeral. Over twenty log beds were placed, line by line, over the black soil of the beach, each one was holding a body, those of the pirates and unfortunate test subjects who were killed in the ordeal. Their bodies were covered and soaked with gunpowder and flammable alcohol, as well was it trailing and connected to each other stack of wood, to help with the process of the bonfire.

Among the crew that left the ship to pay their respect for the poor victims, and their fellow sailors, for being unable to make it out alive, the Panda King kept his breathing slow but stable. He pitied for the pirates who hadn't survived the wraith of the werewolves, they all might have been barbaric and uncivilized but they were all brave nonetheless. However, he was more pitied for the subjects of that damned bio-weapons program, having to endure a nightmare and die at his hands, though he was grateful most of them were still alive, but the rest had died in their sleep, and they could not be brought back so easily.

Sly respectfully removed his hat and held it against his chest as he studied the tragic scene. Some of these dead ones were pirates he had sailed with, and he could easily remember them all when each individual signed up to be a crew member, back in the bar at Bermuda. They were all eager to find and uncover treasure, all were in it for the gold but were really in it for the adventure, none of them really figured that, and now they were gone. He even saw a few pirate commandos who had accompanied the Operation; David Rogers, Jerald Marcus, Carter Vasquez, they were all dead now, and when one was dead that one was gone forever. He himself felt a single tear escape from his eye, but he was more concerned for all of their families, how could his one tear compare to the weeping of an entire group of people for each one person that now lied dead. It couldn't, and he knew he could never give the proper apology for the pirate's death, and his lost dream.

Sergeant Wilson stood close to the beachhead, Fitz, Adams, Pierce, and four other pirates were lined up with him, all armed with concussion assault rifles, set in single controlled bursts, while they all stood ready to turn and fire their weapons in the air, displaying the gunshot of a pyre, for those who were noble and had died in battle.

With the rest of the assembly, Sly, Murray, Bentley, Penelope, Dimitri, Guru, Neyla, Arpeggio, Freddy, Jenkins, and every other sailor of the _Gallantry_ stood with their hats, hoods, and mantillas off, their hands folded in front of them as they all looked at the unlit bonfire, and watched as King lit his finger with a flame tossed it onto the first body. Bit by bit, the fire began to grow and follow along the line that connected it to the next body, and the next, and the next, until all of the dead were now on fire. No one made a sound, they only listened and prayed with the Panda King's preach...

"Dear Lord from beyond the heavens," he spoke in a firm but hear-able tone. "We are all gathered here this morning to cremate these people and free their souls from their ashes. For they had all journeyed a ghastly voyage and endured painful suffering that none could recover from, all of their blood and all of their scars show us that now, and we all hope that they see a world better than this.

"For seeing these brave and innocent souls die mercilessly, we have all come to question: 'Why oh why are the innocent punished?- Why all the losses, why all the sacrifice?' For most of us, we were lucky to travel the next morning with faith still in our possessions, but for the others, they no longer need faith.

"We all ask, Dear Lord, that these souls are delivered to a better place, while we are all left behind until another time. Let them be brought to a new world of salvation... with new opportunities, new boundaries, with a warm, smiling sun to guide them throughout their next life, them there be a new... beginning.

"Amen." The Panda King concluded, as the others followed suit in his respect and preach. Wilson signaled his men and they all spun around, facing the ocean, and fired their weapons out into the horizon. Their gunshots echoed with each shot, displaying the end of the dead pirates' and citizens' lives with a _bang_.

* * *

But not every soul perished death. While the _Gallantry_ sailed away from Howlers' Island, leaving the bodies to burn isolated, one life was about to reach a new beginning, not into salvation but in the same cold earth.

Deep within the cloning laboratory of the complex facility, following the automated procedure programming for Reincarnated Cloning, the dead body of the treacherous crocodile, Julius Black, was onto a dissection table. His dead form was stripped of all clothing as a tissue sample of one of his scales was chipped off. It was then placed into a computer identification system that displayed, on the desktop monitor, a multicolor, twisted ladder, a strand of the croc's DNA.

Almost simultaneously, inside a clone hibernation tube, a synthetic clone body became merged with the DNA and began to mutate and change by the code's directions. It grew green scales all over its form, claws at the end of every finger and toe, and even grew a tail from its rear end. Its face grew long with a big, strong chin and jaw, as black hair sprouted from on top of his head.

In merely a matter of hours that felt like years to him, the crocodile clone twitched its leg... life had returned for a second beginning, Julius Black was among the living again.

* * *

**There we go, that was for Jammin Jabala, now there's an excuse to use him in one of your stories my friend. Enjoy!**

**Review please, or else!**


	54. Epilogue

_Sly Cooper fanfic12_

* * *

**Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...**

**Sequel to Cache Raid...**

* * *

**Untold Chronicles...**

**Lockout**

**_

* * *

_**

Hours, days... he couldn't tell how long, but Johnathan Sawyer knew he had been unconscious for a while. He felt and sensed for his surroundings and surfaces, unsure of where the beast inside him had decided to stop and rest as soon as the sun rose again. It was quite unusual, the surface which he laid on, it was soft and comfortable like a mattress, completely different from the regular ground and soil he found himself lying on. He opened an eye, spotting a wooden room with many beds, desks, plants for decoration, and a small group of people, all too busy in their own personal to notice he had awoken.

He recognized a few of them, all faces he had seen before just yesterday while on this odd, but still familiar ship, the outsiders. He propped himself with his arms and sat up, feeling strangely refreshed and liberated, as if the curse that had transformed him into a monster every night for the last year. His recovery into alert had drawn the attention of the outsiders, and a woman, a white mouse dressed in the appearance of a skilled mechanic, approached his bed and laid a pair of clothes on his legs.

"Good morning, Johnny," the white mouse said. He tried to remember her name, Penelope or Penny or something? "Have a nice rest?"

Sawyer thought he would answer that question with what he had been feeling every morning he usually woke up, but instead, he felt lost at words for his opinion of his rest. He felt great. Better than he had felt in a long time. "Yes..." the word escaped past his lips, as he, for the first time in a whole year, smiled. His smile faded into a confused look as he looked at Penelope. "But why? What happened last night?"

"The monster formula," she began, "the virus inside of you and the other specimen subjects, has been cured and ridden off. You'll never change back into a monster again, for as long as you live."

At that information, his smile returned, as he felt the warmth of the Lord covering him, the warmth of a father's hug. The thought made him frown again, his own mother and father, he still missed them terribly.

"Well, get dressed," Penelope told him, and started for the door, "breakfast is on the counter next to you, eat up and meet up with me on deck. There's a surprise for you."--and then she was gone.

The young wolf hurriedly donned his clothes and chowed down on his breakfast, as he ate he didn't care anymore if he had lost his manners at a year, he was just hungry, and this had definitely been a good morning so far. He licked the dish and wiped his mouth with his sleeve, almost feeling sorry for not treating his new clothes with some respect. And then he headed out of the infirmary, quick modest but fascinated by all of the people on board. Some were people he had known while a monster specimen, and the others, the outsiders, they were all just fascinating to look at.

He climbed up on deck, spotting a new sky, a pure blue, clouded sky without the tainted haze or acid raining clouds that he had grown too familiar with. He turned and found a ship port, the same exact port he had left on a ship to that damned island, the outsiders' ship was in the shipyard of his home! He looked around and found Penelope talking to a turtle in a wheel chair, "Bentley" he remember his name was, and a raccoon dressed in all blue.

Penelope turned her head and found him looking around, and then waved at him, motioning him to come over. Sawyer accepted this warm welcome and approached them, just in time to shake hands with the raccoon. This was the day he meet Sly Cooper, the world famous Master Thief, and, just last night recently, had lifted the curse.

He pointed in the direction behind him, "We have a surprise for you," he said. That's right! The surprise that had been mentioned earlier this morning. He turned around, following the direction that Mr. Cooper's finger indicated. To his surprised, he found two people, a married couple of wolves, both holding each others hands as they spoke with the cougar.

"Mom? Dad?" Sawyer breathed, unsure but hoping it was his parents. It had been a year and yet... he could still recognize them? But he didn't care for the mystery, he was only glad to see them after so long.

The father's gaze glanced to look with his own, as he told the mother. They both stared at him, neither of them moved, nor did Sawyer, all three of them were stunned by each other. It had been a year since they all had last seen each other, and now, after they had awaited to see each other again, none of them could find the confidence to twitch a finger.

Finally, Sawyer broke out in a sprint past several of the outsiders, tears of joy in his eyes, as he ran down the ramp. Up ahead, as the cougar stepped aside to allow him a clear path, both his parents held smiles and tears in their own eyes as they extended their arms. Upon reaching them, he wrapped his arms around them both, as they, in return, held him in their warm hug. After so long, after all of the yelling at each other, the arguing, and all the weeping, it had all reached an end. Never again would they argue about anything for the rest of their lives, and during the time they would pray thanks to the Lord, and pay gratitude to the outsiders--no, the heroes--for rejoining their family.

* * *

Sly, Bentley and Penelope all looked at the reunited family, feeling the warm adrenaline of a good deed fill their hearts and minds. The raccoon, among most of them, could only stand to observe and envy them for so long, this image of a boy and his mother and father was a heart warming sight, but a painful one at that. A tear took advantage and escaped his eye as it ran down his cheek. Could it had been like this with him and his own parents, if he wasn't orphaned would he have lived happily ever after like young Johnny Sawyer. He would never know the feeling as a boy and just his parents, it was all too late now.

"You alright, Sly?" Penelope asked, noticing his now wet cheek.

The raccoon quickly wiped the tears from his face, "Yeah... yeah, I'm just fine." He assured them, taking a quick breath before getting back to business. "Now then, where to next?"

With that question, Bentley opened the Seeker's Scroll on his lap, "Well, there's still many treasure in the world, but it appears the Scroll wants us to find the rest of these Canopic Jars."

Sly nodded, "I actually agree with the Scroll, even though it's just a piece of paper. These Jars have some type of importance to them, if Algeron had said so and Dr. Reinvar had gone to great lengths to keep it in security. How many are there?"

"Five, I count..." Bentley replied, his finger on the black jar symbols of the map.

"Then let's plot a course to the nearest one."

* * *

Meanwhile, back on Howlers' Island, the crash site of the downed helicopter revealed it to be scattered all over the place... or at least, that's how it looked from the opinion of Morgan Remnant. Dressed in an all black outfit that covered every part of skin that made him look like a silhouette, including a gasmask that hid his face, he and his team of wolves, all of which were too dressed in black, probed around the site for anything of desirableness. There was something among all of this wreckage that he wanted, something that the Blue Vipers' small team had failed to collect and bring back to base of operations on schedule.

"M'lord!" The Sergeant wolf called, saluting to the silhouette as he extended his hand and held two capsules, "We found only two, the rest were destroyed when the chopper crashed."

Remnant accepted the capsules and observed them in his hand, the very glass vials that contained the formula that turned regular canine citizens into werewolf weapon specimens. He studied them for a minute before he placed them into the shade of his coat, and as soon as the capsules vanished in the shadows he withdrew his hand, and turned to keep looking.

"My lord!" Called another of the wolf mercenaries, holding up a cube-shaped object. "The Vipers' are dead by the schematics are still in one piece."

The silhouette took the datacube and studied it, turning it with his single hand to observe it from all angles. If it weren't for the mask, the Merc Sergeant and his team would have seen Remnant smile.

"Very good, Sergeant," he told them, "we're all done here. Salvage whatever you like from the chopper but leave the dead, we have everything we need."

With that, Remnant rotated and headed for their own ship, the datacube, containing the schematics for the Clockwerk frame, firmly in his grip. Now that it was obtained, all that was left was a large team of his own and a scientist to see to the schematics, no one like the Klaww Gang or those useless Blue Vipers, but other specialists to see to it that his plan comes with success. For this was not over, no... this was only the beginning of a new world order at hands...

THE END...?

**

* * *

**

**Okay! Just to let you all know, as you probably already know in my summary, this is my last Sly Cooper story. However, I am still going to go for the SC crossover idea in the Untold Chronicles, so if you sitll want to follow along with the story to the Crossover Showdown, the sequel to this will be Conspiracy, a Kung Fu Panda fanfic, and with ravioli jo's permission, it will feature Masquerade. That's right, the same deadly assassin from The Hunt stories.**

**But to summarize it all up, this is it for me on Sly Cooper stories, I am sorry to tell you all, but after I complete the Untold Chronicles through crossover stories, I will have gone as far as I could with SC fanfics. However, I may return, maybe, but until then, I will be gone from the SC category. But Sly Cooper will always be my favorite video game, no other will replace it.**

**This is goodbye, and most likely, this is the last time you hear from 082 Martian Scout...**


End file.
